


take me down, down

by Iris_Duncan_72



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Bullshit Science, Cultural Differences, Drowning, Fluff, Humor, Mer Person, Nonbinary Character, Other, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Seo Changbin is the best boy, haha who trusts writers anymore, it sounds grim but it's not trust me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-12-02 00:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iris_Duncan_72/pseuds/Iris_Duncan_72
Summary: While out for his morning run, Chan finds an injured mer on the beach.





	take me down, down

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #56
> 
> CW: there is a description of drowning near the end. it is not long or very graphic, but it is there, so please be aware of that. you'll know when it's about to arrive.
> 
> bach (pronounced "batch"): beach house

Cast your eyes on the ocean,  
Cast your soul to the sea

_\- Dante’s Prayer_, Loreena McKennitt

Chan ran along the beach in the weak morning light, enjoying the cool air on his heated skin, the steady thump of his trainers against the wet sand, the sky changing from midnight blue to pale gold and pink.

Most of all, he enjoyed the quiet – no local families, no tourists clogging up the dunes and the smooth water. No children shrieking and racing about underfoot. No wealthy young men with their fancy speedboats, off to catch the biggest, prettiest fish they could find. The only sounds came from the gulls, swooping and cawing overhead before they dived into the sea in search of breakfast, and from himself.

He slowed as he approached the jagged black rocks at the base of the cliff that marked the end of the beach, breathing heavily. There’d been a storm last night and a king tide on top of that, so Chan wasn’t surprised to find large clumps of seaweed and shattered pieces of driftwood strewn around as he slowly picked his way through them. There was a wide, public staircase going up the gentler slope of the bluff on the near side of the rocks but he wasn’t after that. On the far side was a much narrower set of stairs zig-zagging up the cliff face that Chan’s parents had installed decades ago, leading right to their bach, and that was what he was aiming –

Chan’s ankle rolled, his foothold precarious, and he slipped on one of the rocks, yelping in startled alarm. He narrowly avoiding sliding into a crevice and banging his head by throwing out his hands and catching himself on rough stone. The skin on his palms tore and he winced.

_That’s what you get for not watching where you’re going,_ he scolded himself, carefully getting back to his feet as adrenaline pulsed through his veins, leaving him breathless and wobbly-kneed.

About to move on, Chan paused and glanced down into the shallow trench as something pale gleamed in his periphery. The lighting wasn’t great this deep in the shadows, but he could immediately identify a large fish tail. A _very_ large fish tail. His eyes widened as he realised the tail ran the length of the crevice, sleek and silvery. On his hands and knees, Chan crawled along his ledge to see where the fish ended only to find –

_Holy shit_ –

– a human torso attached to the tail.

Chan swayed, suddenly very light-headed, and quickly rocked back onto his heels so he didn’t tumble forward and land on the – the mer. Oh boy, that was weird. That was so weird.

Mentally chanting a continuous loop of _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_, he stared at the ever-lightening morning sky and swallowed, trying to convince his thundering heart not to claw its way up his throat or violently exit through his sternum. Then he tilted forward again, just enough to see over the lip of the ledge and yep, the fish-person was still there.

_Don’t be a little bitch,_ he sternly told his brain, which was still having a meltdown somewhere in a distant corner of his head. _See if they’re hurt, they might need help._

Steeling his spine, Chan leaned further forward for a proper look. Now that he was paying attention, he could tell the mer’s tail looked like no fish he’d ever seen before (and Chan had seen a _lot_ of fish in his two and a half decades). It seemed almost serpentine, no thicker than his upper arm at the base, where the tail connected to two large, semi-translucent fins, which presently looked rather crumpled. Two thin fins, similarly opaque, extended from the rough equivalent of mid-thigh. Fins not included, the tail alone was at least five feet long.

He understood how he hadn’t noticed the mer until he’d been almost right on top of them – the scales were only silvery when seen head-on. The lower end of the tail, which he was looking at from an angle, appeared a dark, shimmery turquoise, hardly standing out against the shadowy recesses of the black rocks.

_Camouflage_, Chan thought vaguely, already turning his attention to the mer’s upper half.

The human part was male in appearance, but fuck knew if that actually meant anything. Their skin was very pale and joined seamlessly with the scales at their hips. Streaks of silver crawled up their waist, dusting over their collar and, as far as he could see, shoulders too. The mer’s arms sprawled around them (one of them unnaturally bent) and appeared mostly dressed in human skin, except for their hands, shimmering with scales and short claws instead of nails. The three neat slits on either side of their ribcage were presumably the gills, looking far more natural than the red gash across the mer’s belly.

Chan winced. _That must have hurt_.

Then he glanced up at their face and was suddenly breathless all over again.

Small, flat nose, sharp cheekbones bearing a smattering of scales, plush mouth with a high cupid’s bow, slanted brows and eyes, tangled white-blond hair – the mer was ethereal.

It took Chan a hot second to realise he was just sitting there gaping and then he flushed, leaning back again. He glanced around and felt a rush of relief that he was here so early. What might’ve happened if some nosey, loud-mouthed pack of tourists found the injured mer... It didn’t bear thinking about.

_Squawk!_

For the third time in as many minutes, Chan almost pitched onto his face and he whipped his head around to see a gull on the other side of the trench. He glared fiercely at the bird but was prepared to ignore it – right up until it fluttered down onto the mer’s tail and pecked sharply at the sleek scales beneath it.

‘Hey! Clear off!’ Chan barked, reaching down to swat at the gull, which shrieked at him before launching back into the air. ‘Bloody scavenger,’ he muttered, keeping an eye on the bird for a moment to make sure it wasn’t coming back.

The fine hairs on his nape stood on end and when Chan turned his attention back to the mer it was to see a pair of electric blue eyes staring back up him.

He didn’t move – _couldn’t_ move, couldn’t blink, could barely breathe. Those eyes were hypnotising at best, terrifying at worst. He was a trapped butterfly, a mouse pinned beneath the lethal gaze of a hawk.

Then the mer blinked and the spell was broken, sending Chan reeling backwards, sweating and trembling with another adrenaline rush. Before the sane part of his brain could find the wherewithal to yell at him to _leave now_, he licked his lips and looked down at the mer again, taking care not to make direct eye contact.

Their tail was shifting lethargically, like they weren’t strong enough to move it, and when they tried to push themselves up, their twisted arm collapsed immediately. A shrill yip of pain tore from their lips and Chan’s heart clenched in sympathy. Using their good arm, the mer dug their claws into the rock wall and hauled themself up, draping their injured arm across their abdomen. Dark blood bubbled up and trickled from the wound on their stomach.

‘Do you – do you want some help?’ Chan asked tentatively, fully prepared for the mer to not understand him and partially expecting to end up with a face full of claws.

Burning blue eyes fixed on his face again and he quickly dropped his attention to the mer’s right shoulder. There was an extended moment of silence, during which even their tail was still.

Then: ‘Humans are not known for their charity.’

An undignified squeak of surprise burst out of Chan at the deep-voiced words and he accidentally made eye contact for a split second, forcefully tearing his gaze away before he became powerless to do so.

Clearing his throat, Chan replied, ‘Maybe we’re not, but I was raised to help, not hurt. Besides, out of the two of us, I think you could do a lot more harm to me than I could to you.’

A quiet huff of air, like the mer was snorting in agreement. ‘You ask for my trust when I am at such a disadvantage? Look me in the eye and swear it,’ they said. ‘Swear you mean me no harm.’

Chan’s skin prickled at the thought of being bound by that deeply unsettling stare again but he was unwilling to refuse the mer. He _did_ want them to trust him.

‘If you are being honest, I have no reason to hurt you,’ the mer added.

Well, that was just going to have to be good enough. Sincerely hoping the average mer was more trustworthy than the average human, Chan lifted his gaze, allowing those piercing eyes to lock on his. He gritted his teeth against the distant squeal of panicked survival instincts.

‘Do you mean me any harm?’ the mer demanded, cold as the winter wind.

The compulsion to answer was an immense, crushing thing and Chan made no effort to stop his answer slipping from his tongue – ‘No.’

The mer hissed softly and blinked, releasing him. ‘Very well. I will have to trust you.’

Chan could hear the strain in their voice, see it in the mer’s struggle to stay upright. ‘How can I help you?’ he asked quietly. ‘I can carry you back to the sea? Or, um, do something about your injuries?’

The mer narrowed their eyes and hissed again, flicking their tail, and Chan didn’t know if they were just aggravated at their situation or ready to rip his head off for impudence. Instinctively, he stayed very still, watching their arms and tail for any sudden, major movements.

‘I can’t go back home like this,’ the mer growled, voice rumbling even deeper than before. ‘I won’t make it half a day on my own. All the humans in their little boats have driven the decent-sized fish too far out.’

That sounded... alarmingly terminal.

‘You need to eat, then?’ Chan guessed. ‘I can get you fish. There are markets not far from here that sell a fresh catch every morning.’

The sudden barking of a dog in the distance had Chan jerking to his feet and looking to the far end of the beach. He cursed under his breath; the first of the dog walkers had arrived and it wouldn’t take them all that long to get down here.

‘Listen –’ he began, turning back to the mer, only to be brought up short by the startlingly recognisable look of fear on their face.

They blinked and it was gone, replaced by a more familiar stony mask but Chan was not fooled. The mer before him was very clearly not the naïve, innocent creature popular culture would have him believe but they were hurt and in unfamiliar territory; no wonder they were a bit scared.

An idea crossed Chan’s mind. It was by no means a good one, but it was all he had right now.

‘Listen,’ he repeated, squatting down and keeping his gaze on their collar. ‘The longer you stay here, the more humans are going to arrive. Most of them will probably be less friendly than me.’ He licked his lips, squared his shoulders. ‘I live just on top of this cliff and I have a salt water swimming pool. No one else is there. Since you can’t go back to the sea yet, will you let me take you up there? I’ve promised I won’t hurt you and –’

‘Yes.’

Chan choked on the end of his sentence at the snapped out answer. The mer was twitching and shifting uneasily, their upper lip curling back slightly to reveal very sharp teeth, but they didn’t change their mind.

‘If I go back to the ocean like this, I’ll die. If more of your kind find me, death would be a mercy.’ A rumbling growl that sounded like distant thunder echoed in their throat. ‘I _must_ trust you.’

Hearing the situation as starkly put as that, Chan was floored by how much faith the mer was having to put in him. His determination to help them doubled.

‘I won’t break your trust,’ he swore, chancing a moment of eye contact.

‘If you do, I’ll kill you,’ was the immediate reply. On their next breath they said, ‘My elbow is dislocated. It needs to be reset before you move me.’

Struggling to keep up with the rapid changes of topic, Chan nodded on automatic, then realised what they’d said and gulped.

The mer noticed his response. ‘Do you know how to do that?’ they asked.

‘Yes but –’

‘Then get down here and do it.’

Biting his tongue to keep from snipping back at them, Chan braced his arms on either side of the crevice and ease himself down into it, balancing precariously on slight footholds on either side of the mer’s tail. His pulse quickened at the proximity to this unknown danger but he crouched, taking care not to touch any of the pale skin or shiny scales beneath him.

‘Go on. I asked you to do this, so it doesn’t count as breaking your promise,’ the mer said, breath ruffling Chan’s fringe.

Ah. They thought he was hesitating because he didn’t want them to kill him for causing them pain. Actually, he was more concerned about how their joint might be different from a human one and what that would mean for relocating it. As far as he could tell by looking at the swollen elbow in front of him, however, it didn’t _look_ very different.

Sending a quick prayer to his ancestors that he didn’t fuck up the mer’s elbow any worse, Chan lightly laid his hands on their upper arm and forearm. Both he and the mer started at the contact, taking a moment to get used to the different texture and temperature. Where Chan’s flesh was soft, warm, easily giving way, the mer’s was firmer, cooler, no spare fat at all.

Tongue darting out to wet his lips again, Chan glanced up at the mer, heartbeat stuttering as he beheld that not-quite-human face up close.

‘Ready?’ he asked, noticing two small, ribbed fins (ears?) on either side of their head flicking forward as he spoke.

They dipped their head sharply.

Chan tightened his grip and firmly twisted the forearm, ignoring the mer’s strangled whine, and forced it up towards their bicep. There was a pop and the mer jolted, claws on their good hand crunching into the rock wall. They panted, staring fixedly into the distance, and Chan kept their arm in place ‘til those burning blue eyes turned to him. Cool, scaly skin flexed under his hands and he took the cue, promptly dropping his hands.

Slowly, the mer extended their arm, no change in their expression despite the dark purple bruise forming around their elbow. They ghosted webbed fingers over the joint and Chan felt a shiver run down his spine when he saw just how deep the furrows they’d carved in the black rock were.

‘You did this well,’ the mer said, almost approving as they finished inspecting their arm.

Chan accepted the assessment without comment, only bobbing his head in acknowledgement.

‘Shall I – carry you, then?’

The mer growled low in their throat and nodded. ‘There is no other way.’

It sounded like they were trying to convince themself.

‘Okay then,’ Chan murmured, realising he now had to find a way carry the mer and their five-foot-long tail over some dangerous rocks and up a _lot_ of steps.

The only reason this was even vaguely possible was because he’d let Changbin bully him into being the soccer player’s gym buddy for the past six months. If Chan managed to get himself and the mer up to the bach without breaking his back, he was going to seriously owe his friend.

‘If I pick you up around your waist, can you pull yourself up onto that ledge?’ he asked the mer, gesturing to the side of the trench he’d climbed down from.

‘Yes.’

Good start.

Chan braced himself as well as he could on his narrow footholds and carefully gripped the mer’s narrow waist, the skin cool and damp. He tightened his hold, warily eyeing the gash across their stomach, then took a breath and _lifted_.

Even this was weird – they were light for a second but more of their tail came up off the ground as Chan straightened, adding to the mer’s weight. And that tail was as heavy as it looked. Fortunately, the mer grabbed the ledge with their claws before Chan’s biceps could consider giving out. He released them slowly so their belly didn’t smack into the lip of the trench, then hauled himself out of the crevice.

With a huff, the mer twisted around into a seated place on the rock, swaying slightly. ‘I’ll tear my fins if I drag myself any further,’ they said, sounding slightly breathless.

‘That’s fine, this is far enough,’ he replied, squatting down. ‘Let me know if anything hurts too much.’

Then he wrapped an arm around the mer’s back and slid the other beneath their tail, the scales slippery to touch. They stayed still as Chan stood up and took a second to get used to the weight in his arms.

‘Is this alright?’ he asked softly, looking down and making fleeting eye contact with the mer.

The line of their jaw was very sharp, their breathing very shallow, but they hooked an arm around Chan's shoulders, claws resting on his clothed upper arm. The other arm curved protectively over their sluggishly bleeding wound.

‘It’s fine,’ they gritted out, pain rasping through their words. ‘Start walking.’

Seeing as he didn’t exactly have some mer-suitable painkillers on him, Chan agreed this was the best option. But – ‘What about your tail? It’s going to get scraped raw over these rocks.’

The mer made no reply but the thin end of their tail slowly curled upwards and coiled loosely around Chan’s neck, the fins draping down over his shoulder like the very large pendants of an earring.

Well, alright then.

It took Chan almost ten minutes to get them safely to the other side of the rocks, the terrain plenty treacherous even without sixty or seventy kilograms of mer person in his arms. Crossing the sand, wet and firm with the tide having not long retreated, to the cliff face was a much easier feat. Of course, then there were seven flights of twelve stairs to climb.

The mer stared up at the final challenge while Chan took a second to gird himself for the hell he was about to put himself through (this would count for a whole _week_ of leg days).

‘Is this – Are you sure this is a good idea?’ they asked, quiet and husky, sounding a little hesitant. ‘You won’t drop me halfway up, will you?’

‘I won’t,’ Chan promised, really hoping that wasn’t a lie. ‘This is the fastest way up there and if I take you back over those rocks, you’ll definitely be seen by other humans.’

He felt their chest vibrate against his as they rumbled softly and took that as his cue to stick with this path. So, up they went.

After the second staircase, he was ready for a break.

At the top of the fourth, he was pretty sure his muscles were legitimately on fire underneath his skin.

And by the time they’d reached the clifftop, Chan was a hair’s breadth from melting into a puddle of sweat, his breath coming in short pants.

‘Fuck,’ he accidentally gasped aloud, starting out towards the bach, which was fortunately only several hundred metres away.

The mer jolted at the exclamation and in his periphery Chan saw them look up at him.

‘That is what humans say when they are in distress,’ the mer said, as though by rote. ‘Did carrying me up the cliff cause you distress?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Chan muttered, trainers scuffing over the thick, windswept grass. His left calf was threatening to cramp at any second. Fantastic.

‘I can feel your body trembling,’ the mer noted.

‘It’ll get over it,’ he replied brusquely and, instead of ripping open his throat, they fell silent.

Chan strode around the side of the little house to where the sunken pool was, protected behind its tall fence on three sides. The fence extended to the bach’s sheltered veranda, with only that side open. There was also a gate in the fence but that was locked and Chan had no hands free to retrieve the key from his back pocket.

Hmm.

‘We need the key for the lock to get to the pool,’ he said, stopping by the gate, sincerely hoping the mer knew what a lock was. ‘The key is in the pocket of my shorts. Either you pull it out and unlock this or I have to put you down to get it.’

The mer shifted, turning those bright blue eyes towards the grass, pale hair glinting in the early morning sun (Chan distantly noted it looked much thicker than human hair).

‘I will get your key,’ they said at last. ‘Shorts... That is what you are wearing on your legs, yes?’

Oh boy.

‘That’s right,’ Chan agreed as patiently as he could with every muscle in his body about to stage a mutiny.

‘What is “the pocket”?’

Oh _boy_.

‘It’s the, uh, the pouch. The pouch on the back, which I can put things inside,’ he explained and the mer craned their head around their shoulder to – well, to look at his butt.

_Jesus fucking Christ, what am I _doing_ with my life?_

The mer unhooked their arm from around Chan’s neck and he tried not to squeak when an unexpected hand patted over his butt, claws scraping slightly to find the pocket’s entrance.

Chan shut his eyes for a single second, praying to the gods for strength.

‘Is it this?’ the mer asked suddenly, and he opened his eyes to see them pinching the pool gate key between their thumb and forefinger in front of his face.

‘Yes,’ he said, trying not to sound too relieved. ‘That’s it. Okay, you see that little black and silver thing on the gate? That’s the lock. I need you to put the thinner end of the key in that and twist it to the left.’

It took for the mer three tries to get the key in properly but the gate was open moments later and Chan stepped inside, approaching the edge of the pool. Exhaling long and slow, he crouched, wincing when his knees landed a little heavily on the terracotta tiles.

‘This is salt water? Like the ocean?’ The mer strained forward in his arms, nearly tipping them both in.

‘Yes, it should feel just the same. I’m going to let you down now, alright?’

He lowered the mer to the water and their tail swiftly uncoiled from around his neck. They squirmed and then there was a great big splash which soaked Chan in cold water. Spluttering, he wiped water from his eyes and saw the pale body of the mer streaking along the bottom of the pool, their tail rippling out behind them, scales shimmering in the light.

The pool was some fifteen metres long and as the mer swam around the perimeter of it, Chan did not hesitate to sit down and kick off his trainers, his body sighing in relief. He ran his hand through his hair, grimacing at the feeling of his sweat. The splash from the pool had been quite nice, if rather startling, but on balance he’d rather clean himself with the fresh water of a shower than salt water.

He almost stuck his feet in the pool but decided not to contaminate the mer’s temporary home with his sweat. Not only was that plain rude, but if they took offense, he wouldn’t put it past them to drown him for it. (Chan had seen how powerful those claws were and he had no doubt that if they really wanted, the mer could get themself back to the beach without any assistance at all.)

Crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward, watching the mer learn the parameters of the pool, twisting and darting through the water.

It was when the end of their tail suddenly whipped through the air and smacked back down into the water with an alarming amount of force that Chan was struck with a moment of understanding – this was no half human, half fish. This was no Disney character, ready to break into wistful song. For all that a portion of their anatomy was similar to a human’s, the mer was in no way human. They were, first and foremost, an apex predator of the sea.

Humans might’ve gone soft over the past millennium or two but it was evident in the way the mer moved even while injured and in their body’s sleek lines of taut muscle that this species had in no way lost its touch.

The mer’s movements slowed and they turned towards Chan, their figure and the captivating quality of those blue eyes distorted by the rippling water. They rose to the surface, only their pale head emerging into the air.

‘This water is not the ocean,’ they rumbled, ‘but it is clean and will sustain me.’

‘I’m glad,’ Chan replied, gaze flicking down to the dark slash across their belly and back up. ‘Is there anything I can get for you or do to help heal your stomach? Or your tail?’ He’d noticed one of the fins was still distinctly crumpled.

The mer slipped beneath the surface again and in the blink of an eye had crossed the distance between them and surged up out of the water, their tail coiling and twisting to hold them upright. Startled, Chan flinched back, hands landing on the cold tiles behind him. Undeterred, the mer leaned in, less than half a foot between their faces. Chan stared determinedly at their mouth instead of their eyes, seeing the tips of sharp teeth behind soft lips.

‘Why do you want to help me, human?’ The question was quiet, their voice still surprisingly deep for a creature so lean and graceful. ‘_Why_ would you do that?’

Chan swallowed, heart thudding against his ribs. ‘I –’

‘Look at me,’ they interrupted softly, lifting the hand of their uninjured arm to oh-so-gently grip his jaw and firmly tilt his head back.

Their gaze was as frighteningly magnetic as ever but this time it did not pin him in place, unrelenting and all-consuming. This time, they were just watching him. However, having their claws pressing lightly against his face more than made up for any sense of safety or control that gave him.

‘I don’t know what to say that I haven’t already,’ Chan murmured, fighting to keep his voice steady. ‘I have no reason to hurt you and – and you’re _already_ hurt, so the only decent thing to do is try and help.’

‘The decent thing to do,’ the mer echoed, like they were trying the words out for size, seeing how they tasted. ‘Humans are not known for their decency either.’

‘Trust me,’ Chan blurted. ‘Let me show you that I’m one of the decent humans.’

Slowly, the mer released his face and retreated, sinking down into the pool until the water covered their wounded belly.

‘We have already established that I have no choice but to trust you,’ they said, eyes unblinking.

‘But we also established that you’ll do terrible things to me if I break your trust,’ Chan countered.

The mer cocked their head to one side, those little ribbed fins (they _had_ to be ears) flicking forward again. ‘I would not do terrible things to you. I would slit your throat and eat the muscle on your thighs and upper arms, perhaps your belly too if I was hungry. You are a young, healthy human and it would be wasteful of me not to make a meal of you after I killed you.’

What.

_What._

Chan just... stared at the mer, completely frozen. He could imagine trying to explain this to Changbin next time they met up – _So I picked up an injured mer person at the beach the other day and now they’re hanging out in my pool. Did I mention they also eat humans? Anyway, how’s your week been?_

The mer tilted their head the other way. ‘Have I scared you?’

‘Um... slightly.’ _I’m going to have nightmares for the next six months, thanks._

They hissed softly. ‘That was not my intention.’

‘Why –’ he cleared his throat – ‘why does it matter if you scared me? Isn’t that – good? For you?’

Their upper lip curled back and yes, those were some very sharp teeth.

‘No. Frightened humans are very dangerous.’

The surface of the water around them swirled like there was a rip current beneath it and Chan imagined that if he were to lean forward, he’d see their tail rippling faster than ever. He wasn’t super keen on leaning in right now, though.

‘Nothing is more dangerous than a pack of frightened humans,’ the mer added.

‘Well, unless you try to eat me first, I’m not going to do anything that would make me dangerous to you,’ Chan said, highly disbelieving of the words coming out of his own mouth.

‘And so I must trust you, human.’

‘Chan.’ He said it before he realised what he was doing. ‘My name is Chan.’

Now it was the mer’s turn to freeze and they sank further before remembering to beat their tail to keep them upright, shoulders sloshing in the water. They even reached out a hand to hold the pool edge, coming a little closer again.

‘Humans are strange,’ they mumbled, almost as an afterthought. ‘So advanced in some ways, so slow in others...’

Chan frowned in confusion, sitting up straighter. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

The mer snapped their teeth at him, creating a sharp sound that he imagined could be very threatening when paired with any other aggressive actions, but they did nothing else.

‘You do not have the right to know such things. But...’ They dug their claws into the tile they held onto, creating shallow furrows. ‘My name is Felix. You have earned this, Chan.’

His skin prickled at the sound of his name on the mer’s – no, Felix’s tongue, foreign but familiar.

‘Thank you.’ Seeing how seriously they were telling him this, Chan felt compelled to accept the knowledge with a matching level of sincerity.

Felix inclined their head, before pushing away from the pool wall and drifting out into the middle.

‘I need food,’ they told him. ‘You said you could get fish for me.’

Chan nodded, getting to his feet and grabbing his trainers in one hand. ‘I can. I have to shower and get dressed first, but then I’ll go down to the market and get some fish.’

‘I will be alone here,’ Felix stated, not quite asking, but Chan nodded again.

‘Yes, there’s no-one else here and no-one will come while I’m gone.’ He started walking back to the gate. ‘I won’t be more than about an hour, okay?’

The mer made an ululating trill in the back of their throat (were they _laughing?_) and replied, ‘What is an hour, Chan?’

He restrained the urge to smack himself in the face, embarrassed. ‘It’s – it’s a unit of time. One hour isn’t very long but it is a little while.’

Felix looked towards the sun, rising behind the beach house, then back down at the pool, still half in the shade. ‘Will all the shadows be gone from the water by then?’

Chan shook his head. ‘No.’

He paused with a hand on the gate, about to pull it open before realising there was a potentially vital piece of information he was lacking and spinning around to ask, ‘Which fish do you eat? And how many do you need?’

The trilling sound came again (_that’s got to be a laugh_) and Felix said, ‘I know your language, Chan, but I do not know what you name things. Besides, I will eat any fish. Also the little ones in shells, they are good. As for how much...’ They snapped their teeth again. ‘At least double what you can eat in a day.’

Thank the gods money wasn’t an issue.

‘Alright. I’ll see you in a bit, then.’

The mer made no reply, only arching back into the water and disappearing beneath the surface.

Chan showered like he was in a race, managed to get shampoo in his eyes, tried to use his toothbrush as a comb, and almost left the house in his socks.

He didn’t blame himself though – this had already been the strangest morning of his life and it was barely eight o’clock by the time he reached the fish market. There he sloshed from stall to stall, picking up some marlin and some eel, a few abalones and a few mackerels. Armed with what would for him be about three days’ worth of seafood, Chan nodded his thanks to the old woman he’d bought the abalones from and headed back up the road.

Much of the return walk was spent convincing himself that he _hadn’t_ concussed himself on the rocks after his morning run along the beach and he _hadn’t_ just acquired an alarming amount of dead fish at the request of a hallucination.

When he reached the bach and walked around to the pool and didn’t see the mer, however, his stomach lurched. Doing his best not to panic, Chan unlatched the gate and crossed the tiles to stand at the edge quickly spotting Felix in the shaded corner nearest to him, curled up on the rough concrete floor of the pool. Momentary relief immediately segued into alarm when the mer remained motionless, unresponsive to Chan’s presence.

Dropping his two bags of seafood, Chan dropped to his hands and knees, peering down. Surely he wasn’t imagining the reddish tint in the water around the mer. Shit. Should he jump in? Oh gods, what if the mer had _died?_

‘Felix,’ he called, trying not to let his voice waver. ‘Felix, can you hear me?’

After a heart-stopping second or three, the mer’s silvery, semi-sheer fins twitched and fluttered, the tail uncoiling. Pale hands flattened against the floor and with an abrupt ripple of movement, Felix’s head and shoulders burst through the surface. Chan ignored the splash of water that hit him, though he did jerk back at the sudden proximity to the clearly still alive-and-functional mer.

About to speak, he held his tongue as Felix propped themself up on the edge of the pool and leaned right into his space. Their eyes were wide and sharp again, little ear-fins flicking back and forth, thin nostrils flared.

Chan stayed very still as they inspected him closely, sniffing the air around him.

At last satisfied, they slid back into the water, watching him. ‘You have no other humans with you.’

He had no idea if they were telling him that or asking without asking but he shook his head. ‘It’s just you and me here,’ he said. ‘Well, and a whole lot of dead fish too.’

Felix perked up. ‘Food?’ they asked.

‘Food,’ Chan agreed, reaching back for the bags and dragging them forward.

He pulled out the various wrapped paper packages, saw the mer’s attention go to the one with mackerel in it, their nostrils flaring again. Unwrapping that one first, he picked up one of the fish by its tail and offered it to the mer. They sniffed it several times, reminding him of a suspicious cat, then took it between their very sharp teeth and retreated.

Chan watched with morbid fascination as they made short work of it, bones and all. Blood stained their clawed fingertips and mouth when they were done, but a quick duck underwater removed most of it.

That, however, reminded Chan of the rather pressing question he had for them.

Sitting cross-legged next to all the unwrapped packages, lined at the pool edge so Felix could inspect each of them, Chan asked, ‘How’s that cut on your stomach doing? It doesn’t look so good.’

It really didn’t. Even with the water barrier twisting his view of it, he could tell it was still open and raw and bleeding.

Felix paused, halfway through gulping down an eel in a truly inhuman fashion. Their bright blue eyes met Chan’s, questing and mistrustful.

‘Look, you don’t have to let me near it,’ he said, a little frustrated, ‘just tell me if there’s something I can do to help you. I got you food, didn’t I?’

They finished their eel, tongue darting out to catch a red droplet crawling down their chin.

‘The more I eat, the faster I heal, so long as I don’t make it worse,’ they said, the gravel heavier in their voice after eating. ‘But... a binding would help. I use strips of kelp. They are strong, good for holding wounds together.’

The idea of stitches crossed Chan’s mind but he discarded the thought promptly – if the mer was loathe to let him even get a binding for them, there was no way in hell they’d allow him near with a needle and thread.

Bindings, though, bindings he could do.

Pushing to his feet in one smooth movement, he said, ‘I don’t have any kelp, sorry, but I have something else. Eat the fish, I’ll be back shortly.’

As he hopped up onto the veranda and made his way to the door, Chan heard a quiet growl of ‘Don’t give me orders.’ Grinning, he unlocked the sliding door and left it open behind him, kicking off his shoes before he stepped inside.

He went straight to the bathroom, pulling open the linen cupboard and retrieving a sheet. It was old but clean and he didn’t mind sacrificing it for the mer in his pool; it was a far more exciting end than any of the other sheets would get.

He carried it out onto the deck and spread it out, aware that he was being watched closely. Roughly measuring the sheet, Chan tore it into a dozen strips width-ways, each one being long enough to wrap around a torso two or three times. He left all but three strips on the veranda, taking them down to the pool edge.

Felix was prising abalones open with their claws and slurping up the morsels inside, the nasty bruise on their elbow seemingly giving them no trouble. At Chan’s approach, however, they discarded the shell in their hand and glided over to him, tail coiling and curving sleekly through the water.

‘Bindings,’ Chan said, holding out the fabric. ‘Careful with your, um, your claws.’

Felix sniffed at the offering and their tongue darted out to taste the cotton (_okay, sure_) before they took the strips from him. They handled the fabric cautiously, stretching it to test its strength, then drenched the strips thoroughly in pool water.

‘These will work,’ the mer informed Chan seriously, wrapping the strips one by one around their abdomen.

‘Oh, great, I’m glad,’ he replied, relieved. Gesturing back to the remainder of the sheet, laid out on the veranda, he added, ‘When you want new bindings, you can use the rest of those. I’ll leave them down here for you.’

Chan suited actions to words as the mer finished tying their makeshift bandage around themself. He was quietly pleased to see blood had not immediately soaked the cotton through, the bleeding still slow.

Turning their attention to the human again, Felix said, slow, unblinking, and a little begrudging, ‘Thank you, Chan. I am... in your debt.’

Startled, Chan rocked back on his heels, holding up his hands and shaking his head. ‘No, no,’ he protested. ‘Don’t worry about it, you don’t owe me anything.’

This was the wrong thing to say, however, and the mer’s expression darkened, hackles rising. ‘You do not accept the debt? Is it because I am not human? I assure you I am _just_ as capable as –’

What?’ Bewildered, Chan sat back on his haunches, scrambling to explain himself. ‘I just – you don’t need to _do_ anything for me. There is no obligation.’

Felix was still looking distinctly unimpressed, upper lip curling back from their sharp teeth. ‘You deny me the right to return the favour?’ They smacked the water with a hand, causing a splash. ‘Humans _are_ as stupid as they look.’

Okay, _that_ was uncalled for.

Rearing back in confused affront, Chan said, ‘Look, Felix, in the human world, owing people isn’t a good thing. It’s not something you _want_ to do.’

Felix tossed their head, an eminently dismissive gesture. ‘Want does not matter. Give and take is important. The ocean must have balance.’ They narrowed those dangerous eyes of theirs at him. ‘Accept the debt.’

He really didn’t like the way they were flexing their fingers and wondered briefly if they might use their claws to _make_ him accept their offer, should he continue to refuse.

_Ah, what the heck, there’s worse things than having a mer person owing me_, Chan thought, mentally sighing.

‘Alright, alright,’ he acquiesced. ‘I accept the debt.’

The mer gave a trill of triumph and, without further words, swam back to the piles of fish to continue eating.

Chan took a second to just... sit there and stare blankly at the sky. Maybe he was going into shock. He certainly felt a bit overwhelmed.

Then his stomach rumbled and he jolted out of his reverie. He hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning and what with all the mer-related excitement on top of his run, he was rather hungry. Even watching said mer violently consume dead marlin (he was _so_ going to have to clean the pool later) wasn’t enough to dull his appetite.

‘I’m going to go... eat,’ he said, standing up.

Felix blinked languidly up at him, delicate fish bones crunching between their jaws.

‘...Right. Just, uh, stay there, I guess. Yell if you need something,’ he muttered, spinning on his heel and marching back into the house, leaving the sliding door wide open.

_“Just stay there”? Really? What the hell else are they gonna do?_ Chan thought despairingly as he entered the little kitchen.

On mornings when he went for a run, Chan didn’t usually have anything more than a nutrient-rich fruit smoothie but he’d left it a bit late for that today. Instead, he prepared a more traditional breakfast, sourcing some of the _banchan_ from the fridge as he’d actually made some food last night instead of ordering takeout or eating out of a tin. Truly, he was an old-fashioned bachelor.

His mother would have scolded him for not making it all fresh but that was because food had never stopped being precious to her, even after she’d married Chan’s father and money was no longer an issue. Chan used to roll his eyes good-naturedly at her tutting but now he’d give just about anything to hear it again. He could scarcely believe that’d it been almost seven years to the day since he’d last heard his mother’s voice.

The beeping of the rice cooker’s timer was a welcome distraction and Chan forcefully shrugged off his morose thoughts before they could affect his mood for the rest of the day.

He assembled his meal and grabbed his phone from the counter where he usually left it on charge overnight. Shoving it in his pocket, he decided to eat at the breakfast bar instead of out on the deck, as he’d originally been intending. A few minutes to himself sounded like an awesome idea.

Perching on one of the two stools, Chan fell upon his food with the grace of a starving man. His body sighed in relief and he unlocked his phone, seeing a new chat from Changbin. Opening it, he saw it was another stupid cat video and rolled his eyes before obligingly tapping on it. This one was actually kind of funny though, so he sent back an appropriately amused reply. Changbin replied almost immediately:

_9:23 AM | Kangaroo-hyung & Babybinnie (2)_

_Babybinnie: sup hyung! how was the run? see any dolphins?_

_Kangaroo-hyung: Morning, Binnie ^^ no dolphins unfortunately just lots of seagulls_

_Babybinnie: damn, tourists probably scared em off :/_

_Kangaroo-hyung: Probably. Aren’t you meant to be working right now? Minho will have your ass if he catches you slacking_

_Babybinnie: I always have time for you, bestie ;)_

_Kangaroo-hyung: ...._

_Babybinnie: shut up, there’s a lull in traffic n he’s not looking_

Chan snorted. Changbin did so love to play with fire – Chan knew Minho to be a pretty calm person, if a bit of a neat-freak, but no-one and nothing got him more riled up than Changbin. It could probably be put down to repressed sexual tension or something. Chan was really waiting for the day Changbin messaged him saying he and Minho had fucked in the café backroom.

_Babybinnie: fuck he’s seen me gtg_

_Babybinnie: see you tomorrow yeah?_

Oh yeah.

_Kangaroo-hyung: If Minho doesn’t skin you, sure_

Chan locked his phone and put it face down on the counter; Changbin wouldn’t be replying anytime soon.

He’d just finished his food and was chasing the final grains of rice around in the bowl with his chopsticks when a husky voice reached his ears.

‘Chan!’

He dropped the chopsticks with a clatter and skidded across the floorboards to the sliding door, hopping out onto the deck to see Felix raised up in the water. They were propped up with a hand on the tiled pool edge, water streaming off their pale figure. His eyes dipped to the bandage; still no blood showing so maybe this wasn’t life or death.

‘Yes?’ he asked, trying not to sound too interrogative.

‘The sun,’ they said, agitated. ‘It is taking all the shadows.’

Chan blinked, realising that the pool was almost completely in direct sunlight now.

‘Is it too... hot for you?’

‘I am made for deeper water,’ they explained. ‘I take care not to spend too much time near the surface or I will burn.’

Well, shit. Another fifteen minutes and there wouldn’t be any shade over the water at all.

‘Uh. Right. Okay. Burning is bad. Obviously. Um,’ Chan fretted, mind tripping over itself to come up with any kind of solution.

The bach had two double mattresses – could he slide them over one end of the pool? That would of course leave him without a bed, though there was always the couch... What about a parasol? It would have to be attached to something to make it tall enough, but then he could attach sheets or towels to it to make it large enough and that would be by far preferable to using the mattresses.

‘Okay,’ Chan repeated, renewed confidence steadying him. He met the mer’s shining eyes. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got something we can use.’

He went back inside and straight to the storage closet. There were far too many inflatable things in here, a couple of folded deck chairs, extra towels – aha! A large dark green parasol covered in dust. He extracted it from the mess around it and quickly looked it over, making sure nothing was broken. It even had a detachable base so it could stand by itself.

Now he needed something for it to stand on – by itself, the parasol would barely make it to the surface of the water.

Chan tugged on the thin silver hoop through his earlobe distractedly, frowning at the parasol. What did he have that was large enough, strong enough, and disposable enough to be immersed in sea water for gods knew how many days?

Inspiration struck and he trotted into the guest bedroom, unoccupied for years. He moved the bedside lamp onto the bed and made sure the drawers of the little table were empty, then scooped it up and carried it to the veranda.

Aware of Felix’s ever-curious, ever-wary gaze on him, Chan retrieved the parasol and two towels. Hands on his hips, he stared at his collection of items. To make this work, he really needed some serious bulldog clips and a couple of sandbags. That would require a trip to the village though and that would take at least an hour and a half.

Hmmm.... There were a few clothes pegs here, they might do for now. But what would hold the parasol in place on top of the bedside table? It needed stabilisers to stop it tipping over due to the currents created by Felix’s tail.

_I could just... go down to the beach and... get some rocks. I guess._

Chan glanced at the almost non-existent shade over the water and saw Felix pressed in a corner, only their eyes visible above the lip of the pool as they watched him.

Fuck it. Rocks it was. Felix would just have to be careful with the parasol until Chan brought them up.

‘Alright, I have a plan,’ Chan said, carrying the table down to the pool, the tiles cool beneath his bare feet.

‘We are making shadows?’ the mer questioned, emerging a little more.

‘Yep. Here, can you take this? Put it on the ground in the middle, okay?’

Felix grunted at the weight of the ex-bedside table, their bruised elbow visibly threatening to crumple, but it held and they dipped under water. Chan grabbed the parasol and towels, then remembered the pegs and swiped the basket of them too. He unfolded the parasol to its full height and offered it to the mer.

‘Put that on top of the table,’ he directed.

Then he crouched and started pegging the two towels around the edge of the sun umbrella, pleased when they easily covered the water between the parasol and pool lip. He folded back the towel nearest to him so he could see Felix under the improvised shelter.

‘How is it?’ he asked, unable to repress a slightly proud smile.

Felix blinked at him, an expression that might have been surprise on their face. ‘This is good, it will do. Thank you.’ They hesitated, then added, ‘You are very resourceful.’

Was that a note of grudging admiration Chan heard? He rather thought it might be, but in the interests of self-preservation kept this observation to himself.

‘You’re welcome,’ he replied lightly. ‘Try it out, see how you like it – I’m going back to the beach to get some rocks to anchor the parasol.’

‘Anchor? Why anchor?’ they asked, surging through the water towards him.

As expected, the umbrella promptly tipped over, caught in the mer’s slipstream.

Chan caught it and pushed it back into place while Felix ducked below the surface in what he thought might be instinctive self-defence. He saw them circle the base before their head popped back up again.

‘An anchor is needed,’ they agreed. ‘This shelter is fragile.’

Swallowing back a giggle at their word choice, Chan nodded. ‘Take care of it, Felix, and I’ll be back soon.’

Their ears flicked forward and back. Slowly, they dipped their head in a nod. ‘I will wait... Chan.’

He didn’t even try to hold back the smile this time as he got to his feet and returned to the bach.

The sun might’ve covered the pool but the strip of beach at the foot of the cliff remained swathed in shadow. This meant there was no-one this side of the jumbled black rocks when Chan reached the bottom of the stairs, to his relief.

He’d foregone shoes and he enjoyed the sensation of cool sand under his feet as he slowly made his way around the cliff face, looking for rocks of an appropriate size for him to carry back up. Most of them were way too big or way too small but he found several that wouldn’t break the canvas bag he had with him.

Chan also picked up a couple of smaller ones – he was well aware that the pool was pretty plain and if Felix was going to be stuck in there for even a few days... Well, he’d hate to see them get bored, both because he was a good host and because he really didn’t want to become their chew toy.

By the time he was back up all those damn stairs, he was a sweaty mess again, though not as bad as he’d been the first time around.

Tousling his unpleasantly damp hair, Chan unlocked the gate around the pool and said, ‘You can come out, it’s just me. I have some anchors.’

Felix’s pale, shaggy mop of hair appeared around on the far side of one of the towels, their nostrils flared and ears flicked forward as they confirmed Chan’s presence. Then they ducked back under the parasol, out of the relentless sun.

Chan crouched by the edge of the pool, bag set down next to him. ‘Here we go.’

‘What’s inside?’ the mer asked, unblinking.

‘Rocks,’ he replied. ‘Look, how about you take the whole bag into the water and then you can lay them exactly as you want, alright?’

Felix reached out with clawed hands and tugged the bag over the edge. It disappeared with splash towards the bottom of the pool and the mer followed it. Chan stayed put, hands curling over the edge of the tiles so he didn’t fall in as watched. He was endlessly fascinated by that beautiful, silvery tail and the misleadingly-human torso attached to it.

The grace with which the mer moved through the water was unsurpassed by any creature, human or otherwise, that Chan had ever seen before.

They returned to the surface shortly after and he leaned back as they slapped the sodden, empty canvas bag up onto the tiles next to him.

‘There are more than enough rocks,’ Felix commented, long wet fringe hanging in their eyes. ‘But you already knew that.’

Chan smiled faintly in response to the suspicious statement.

‘I did, yes. What I didn’t know was which ones would work best, so I thought I’d leave that up to you,’ he elected to say. Rather that than the mer think he was patronising them.

‘Hmm,’ was the response. ‘I will use them all then, if they will not be missed from the sea.’

Chan open his mouth to confirm that but, to his mild surprise, the mer was not done.

‘This manmade pool... It will serve me well,’ they said, almost like they were reminding him, ‘but it is... very empty.’

So his suspicions had been correct.

‘These ones were all around the base of the cliff, well away from the water,’ Chan assured them.

‘Good,’ Felix rumbled, then changed topic. ‘It is too dry up here for me, I need to stay underwater now.’

Chan barely had time to say, ‘Okay,’ before the mer was gone to the concrete floor. He noted the piles of assorted fish down there too and winced; the pool was going to need a _serious_ clean after this.

The rest of the day went smoothly.

Chan spent most of his time indoors under the air con in a thin t-shirt and loose shorts, trying to get some work done (he composed music and sang) but failing miserably. Instead, he opened an incognito window on his computer and tried to find any vaguely credible information about mer people. After six conspiracy websites and more conflicting stories from various folklores than he could count, he had to admit that maybe the internet wasn’t the best place to look.

He checked on Felix a couple of times but rarely found the mer out of their coiled position in the corner of the pool. Maybe it was a fish thing? Or a predatory thing? Neither of those were particularly pleasant to think about so Chan didn’t dwell on them.

By early evening, when the sun was sat on the edge of the horizon, bathing the cliff face and bach in warm gold light, the only remaining evidence of the fish in the pool was abalone shells.

Chan blinked in quiet disbelief at that – Felix had said they would eat a lot but there had been a _hell_ of a lot. He scanned the pool and saw the mer swimming lazy figure-of-eights up the other end now that the sun only touched the top of the water.

‘Felix,’ he called.

The mer curved through the water and their head popped up, shaggy white-blond hair dripping down their face.

When they made no move to approach or speak, Chan continued calmly, ‘I’m closing the door now, okay? And I’ll be going to sleep soon. You’ll be alright for the night, yes?’

Early evening or not, it had been a wild day and he was already dog-tired. He’d considered leaving the door open but night time on the cliff top tended to bring in strong winds off the sea.

‘Yes,’ Felix said bluntly and dipped back underwater.

Well, alrighty then.

Without further words, Chan turned and went back inside.

He woke early, like he always did, though not as early as he would’ve if he were going for a run.

Pale light seeped into the room through a crack in the dark blue curtains, falling somewhere past the end of his double bed. He stretched with a sleepy sigh and winced, his muscles aching like he’d let Changbin convince him to do an extra circuit at the gym. Why –?

Oh.

Chan hadn’t dreamed up the mer person, had he?

Unwilling to deal with such thoughts before he’d had a cup of tea (though perhaps this was worth coffee), Chan grabbed a fat white pillow and dropped it on his face with a groan. He’d really found a mer person yesterday and he’d really brought them up to the bach. Fuck. Their name was Felix and their claws were strong enough to cut through solid rock. _Fuck._

He rolled over, dislodging the pillow, and checked the time on his bedside clock. Small, brass, old-fashioned, it had been a present from his father for his eighteenth birthday. Chan loved it; it was one of the few things aside from clothes and his recording equipment that he brought to the holiday house every summer.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he threw back the covers and got up, skin prickling in the cool air. It’d warm up soon enough, so he didn’t bother pulling on a shirt as he flicked open the curtains (windswept clifftop, clear sky, distant ocean) and padded out to the bathroom. About fifteen percent awake, he felt vaguely more human after using the loo and washing his face.

There was nothing to distract him now and he made his way to the front room. Chan rarely drew the blinds in here so the room was awash in the early morning light. The top of the parasol was visible from where he stood in the entrance and he swallowed hard, approaching the sliding door.

He flicked the lock and stepped out onto the deck. There was no other movement and the fresh air quickly sharpened his mind. On silent feet, he crossed the veranda and hopped down onto the tiles, toes curling at the cold surface.

At the edge of the pool, the shadows cleared enough from the water that he could see dark spots dotting the floor – abalone shells. But where was the long silvery tail of the mer though? He scanned the pool carefully and then _oh_.

Felix was streaking across the bottom, creating nary a ripple on the surface, blending in very well with their surroundings. Chan realised that the lack of direct light was letting them exercise their natural camouflage abilities even against a blank background.

Once again, the whole “dominant predator of the sea” thing was really hammered home for him.

A breeze blew in from the sea, ruffling Chan’s hair and raising goosebumps on his skin. It also reminded him that he still wasn’t wearing a shirt and oh, look at that, Felix’s glittering eyes had found him. He felt embarrassed for only a moment before remembering the mer was probably going to be the _last_ person to care about that.

Water sloshed and they broke through the surface not far from Chan, pale and lean.

He cleared his throat. ‘Good morning, Felix. Did you rest well?’ He didn’t know if the mer had actually slept.

Felix cocked their head. ‘How do you know it is a good morning? You look like you have only just woken.’

Ah.

‘It’s an expression of good will,’ he explained. ‘We say it when, uh, when we meet people in the morning.’

‘Oh.’ Felix appeared to chew this over, then said, ‘We do not do such things. If another said that to me, I would think they had been bitten by the sea witch.’

Chan blinked. ‘The... sea witch?’

With utmost seriousness, the mer nodded. ‘Those who are bitten lose themselves and do strange things. It is the price we pay for –’ They broke off with a frustrated sort of squawk. ‘I do not know the word in your language,’ Felix muttered, before gesturing to himself. ‘For _us_, for _me_, for –’

‘Self-awareness?’ Chan suggested interestedly, dropping into a crouch, forearms balanced on his thighs.

The mer’s eyes swirled hypnotically as they regarded him. ‘Perhaps.’ Then: ‘Will you bring me more fish today, Chan? I am hungry.’

His eyes widened before he could control his reaction. ‘You’re already hungry again? I mean, sure, I’ll go get you some more, but wow. That’s – that’s impressive.’

They made a slight sort of undulating motion with their body and he realised they were preening.

‘I do not usually eat so much but while I am healing, I must,’ Felix said.

Chan nodded absently. ‘That makes sense. I’ll just go get dressed, then I’ll get you more food.’

‘Why do you change your clothes so often?’ they asked before he could rise, the words hurried, their confusion clear.

‘Oh, um... Well, it’s partly for comfort and partly for hygiene. The clothes I wear during the day aren’t usually comfortable enough to be worn while I sleep and besides, they get smelly after being worn,’ Chan explained, a little bemused. He still hadn’t had a cup of tea _or_ coffee and his brain hadn’t yet fully woken.

Felix’s nostrils flared and their upper lip curled briefly. ‘Humans are so strange,’ they rumbled quietly, almost thoughtfully. ‘Why do you wear clothes at all during the hot season?’

‘For modesty,’ he replied. ‘We’re not allowed to be in public without clothes on.’

The mer’s brow furrowed. ‘But you’re _not_ in public. This is your house. There is no-one else here and yet you are still wearing clothes.’

Seriously, it was way too fucking early for Chan to be discussing the morality of nudity and early twentieth first century beliefs on such matters. He sighed, running a hand over his face.

‘Let’s just say it’s because humans are ridiculous, okay? We think it’s a bad thing to be naked, except under certain circumstances.’

Felix looked very, very puzzled now. ‘That _is_ ridiculous,’ they agreed.

Chan straightened. ‘I know. I’m still going to get dressed though, so I’ll see you in a bit.’

‘An hour?’ they asked brightly.

He smiled. ‘Yes.’

After he returned with an appropriate amount of fish and Felix had slowed in their gorging enough to listen to him, Chan told the mer that he’d be going out soon. He was going to meet a friend down in the village and would be back in several hours. So they could measure that time, he grabbed the digital clock from his studio, explained the numbers to them, and left it on the edge of the pool. He also warned them it wouldn’t work if they took it under water, just in case they were tempted.

There was an interesting incident involving a dozen or so seagulls and a very riled up mer just before he left, which left him running a bit late. Soon enough, however, he was pushing open the door to the milkshake bar.

Chan nodded to the cashier, and turned left to the line of booths that ran the length of the shop’s glass front. He saw Changbin sitting in the third one along, cap pulled down low, and felt his mouth curve into a responsive smile.

‘What took you so long, hyung?’ Changbin demanded playfully as Chan slipped into the seat opposite him. ‘Your shake’s gonna melt.’

In front of the older man was a tall glass of rich, chocolate-and-coffee-flavoured goodness that did indeed look a little precarious. Chan saw that Changbin was already a third of the way through his own shake, bright pink and strawberry-flavoured.

‘Uh, well...’

How did he explain that a pack of gulls had been drawn to his pool by all the dead fish and he’d had to frantically shoo them away with a broom before Felix started tearing them out of the sky, growling almost as loud as the birds were shrieking?

‘Unforeseen delays,’ he answered vaguely before slurping a mouthful of his melting milkshake.

Curiosity flashed across Changbin’s expression but he let the comment pass. ‘How’s your week been then? Get anywhere with your new song?’

Chan’s wrinkled. ‘Not as far as I’d like. I’ve got the bones of the melody but nothing wants to go with it, nothing feels right.’

‘Maybe it’s off slight. Have you tried shifting it a bit?’ Changbin suggested, one music enthusiast to another.

‘No, the melody is perfect,’ Chan said firmly, shaking his head. ‘I’ve just got to figure out – well, everything else.’

‘You know where to find me if you want any help.’

The older man smiled. ‘Yeah, thanks Binnie.’

‘Yah, don’t give me that mushy look,’ Changbin protested, tugging his cap down like it would hide the pink spots on his soft cheeks.

Chan raised an unimpressed brow. ‘Yah? Is that any way to speak to your elders and betters, young man?’

Changbin snorted around his straw and choked on frothy strawberry milk. Chan grinned and handed him a napkin to cough into, the younger’s earrings tinkling as his shoulders shook.

‘You’re only two years older than me, hyung,’ he eventually spluttered. ‘Or should that be _old man_?’

Chan lunged across the table pretending to strangle him, and Changbin burst into loud peals of laughter as he recoiled. He swatted at Chan’s hands with his crumpled serviette and the elder retreated, giggling high and breathy despite his grimace.

They drank their milkshakes quietly for a minute, then Chan gestured to the younger man and said, ‘So, tell me about your week. Made a move on Minho yet?’

Changbin’s ears went red as he tried to glare fiercely. ‘_No_,’ he snapped. ‘He’d probably blitz me in the smoothie machine. I got so much shit for being on my phone yesterday, even though there were like _three_ customers in the café and none of them were paying attention anyway.’

‘I’d bet my left leg he’s just shy and doesn’t know how to flirt so he’s defaulting to picking fights with you,’ Chan smirked.

‘He is _not_,’ Changbin insisted. ‘Minho-hyung’s a demon sent from hell to torment me for my sins.’

‘Sure he is,’ the elder agreed as patronisingly as possible.

They chatted for a while, milkshakes rapidly disappearing. Chan brought up the photos their mutual friends Hyunjin and Jisung had posted on Instagram a couple of days ago, the pair clearly having the time of their lives as they backpacked across Europe. Changbin then told him about the latest adventures of his cousin, Jeongin, a newly graduated vet working in a Malaysian zoo, whose overly-enthusiastic supervisor kept giving him tasks way above his paygrade and experience level.

Before he’d realised it, a couple of hours had flown by and Chan found himself slightly anxious to return home. He’d told Felix he wouldn’t be more than three hours and he really didn’t want to alarm the mer by being late. Gods only knew what they might do then.

‘What’s up, hyung?’ Changbin asked, breaking him out of his mental spiral. ‘You look twitchy.’

Whoops.

‘Hmm? Oh, nothing’s wrong, don’t worry,’ Chan replied calmly, only to then make the completely amateur mistake of glancing at his watch.

Changbin’s expression took a turn for the disbelieving. ‘Hyung, you’ve checked the time three times in a minute. I’m sure you don’t want to get rid of me _that_ badly.’

‘No, no,’ Chan immediately refuted. ‘I just –’

There were any number of reasons he could’ve given but Chan hated lying, especially to his best friend, and he let the silence stretch too long.

‘What, do you have a date or something?’ Changbin prodded, interest gleaming in his dark eyes, as well as a touch of concern. ‘You’re not in trouble, are you?’

Chan shook his head, mind racing for a plausible excuse.

A faint frown formed on Changbin's forehead. ‘Well, what is it? It’s not like you to keep secrets.’

There was no hurt or judgement in his tone, only confusion, but Chan immediately felt guilty.

‘Listen,’ he said quietly, leaning in. ‘It’s – it’s not my secret to tell, okay? I really want to tell you but – but I can’t because it could be dangerous for, uh, the other person involved.’

Changbin was looking more puzzled and worried by the second. ‘Are you _sure _you’re not in any trouble?’

‘Positive. But the other person _is_ in a bit of a bad situation and I’m helping them out for now. Whatever you think this is, by the way, I can promise you it’s not,’ he added.

‘You don’t know what I’m thinking so you can’t promise that,’ Changbin replied automatically, then continued in a hushed voice, ‘Are they staying at the beach house? Is that why you were looking at your watch, because you need to get back?’

How was this kid so goddamn smart?

Chan nodded slowly. ‘Yeah. They’re not staying long but until they leave, um, don’t drop by unannounced, please? People make them nervous.’

‘Sure, hyung,’ Changbin agreed, sounding somewhat sceptical and looking like he wasn’t entirely sure Chan hadn’t gone slightly bonkers.

‘Thanks.’ Chan trusted Changbin and didn’t doubt he’d keep his word. ‘Obviously, if it should somehow come up with anyone else –’

Changbin leaned back in his seat and mimed zipping his mouth shut and tossing away a key. ‘Not a word from me, don’t worry. Let me know how it goes though? And if I can, y’know, help at all.’

‘You’ll be the first person I call,’ Chan promised. With Hyunjin and Jisung out of the country, there wasn’t anyone else for him to call anyway. ‘And really Changbin, thank you.’ It was a relief to have told him at least part of the story.

Changbin beamed. ‘No worries,’ he said, holding out his hand for a fist bump that Chan promptly gave him. ‘You should get going then, hyung. My sister wants to take me clothes shopping this afternoon.’ He rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

‘Say hi to noona for me,’ Chan said with a smile as he stood.

‘Will I be seeing you at the gym tomorrow?’ Changbin asked, blinking up at him.

Chan paused. ‘Probably. I’ll let you know if plans change. Can we push it half an hour later though?’

Changbin nodded. ‘I’m on the afternoon shift, so no problem.’

‘Great. Catch you later, Binnie!’ Chan left with a parting rap of his knuckles against the brim of Changbin’s cap, grinning at the squawk it elicited.

As it was, he got back to the bach a few minutes after the three hour mark, which Felix took great pains to point out. Chan got the feeling they were proud of knowing the numbers on the clock well enough to be able to tell. They forgave him readily enough though, swiftly diving back into their shelter from the fierce sunshine.

Picking up the clock, Chan noted a couple more of the makeshift bandages by the pool edge had disappeared. He decided to trust that Felix would tell him if their wound was getting any worse and went inside.

The wondrous powers of human adaptability proved themselves that afternoon – while Chan hadn’t been able to focus yesterday at _all_, today he had little trouble. The music he was working on was still giving him serious problems but he managed to spend several hours whittling away at it. He knew he’d solve it out eventually; he always did. It just felt like there something missing from anything he composed to go with the melody and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was...

By the time the sun was nearing the horizon, Chan was ready for a break and some food. Rubbing his eyes, he pushed away from his desk with his phone in hand, swivel chair sending him gliding across the carpet towards the door. About to call his favourite delivery place, he paused, thumb hovering over the keypad. Perhaps he should let Felix know before he actually placed the order, just in case they completely flipped out.

He wandered languidly through the little house to the deck, wincing as the setting sun stabbed him in the eyes. At least it was a more pleasant temperature out here now.

The mer was lying on their back and floating along the surface of the water, tail and fins twitching this way and that so they didn’t bump into the pool’s walls.

‘Felix,’ Chan called, barely above speaking volume.

Their head immediately lifted, ribbed fins on either side of their face flicking forward, an indication that they were listening.

‘I’m thinking of ordering takeout – food that’s made somewhere else and brought here,’ he explained, ‘but I want to make sure that’s alright with you first.’

Felix’s tail disappeared as they straightened, approaching the pool edge and setting their pale hands on the tiles.

‘If it is brought here, that means another human will be here,’ they rumbled, eyes swirling threateningly.

Keeping an eye on their claws instead, Chan nodded. ‘They wouldn’t be here for long and they’d only come to the front door, which is around the other side of the house. If you stay underwater, there’s no chance of the delivery guy seeing you.’

Water churned behind them, which he recognised to mean they must be slashing their tail under it.

‘Do you promise this?’ Felix asked, stare heavy on Chan’s skin. ‘That the human will not come to the pool and they will not see me?’

‘Yes,’ he replied firmly. Taking a chance, he lifted his gaze to meet those bright, hypnotic eyes and said, ‘You will be safe.’

Their upper lip curled, revealing sharp teeth, but they said nothing more, arching back into the water. When they did not re-emerge, Chan supposed that was his go-ahead.

After placing an order for greasy, delicious, very unhealthy pizza, he hung around the front of the bach until the little delivery car showed up. One polite exchange later and the kid who’d handed over the food was gone in a cloud of dust down the long driveway.

Chan immediately went back to the veranda, setting the pizza box down on the wood as he went over to the pool, tiles still warm under his bare feet.

Felix stared up at him from under the water and Chan almost jumped in shock. They grinned at him and he knew they’d seen his reaction. They rose to the surface a moment later and he stepped back, dropping into a crouch so they wouldn’t have to crane their neck so much.

‘The human is gone,’ he told them.

They audibly sniffed at the air, then relaxed a bit. ‘Good.’ Their expression suddenly twisted and they demanded, ‘What is that smell?’

Fighting a grin of his own, Chan pointed back to the flat box on the deck. ‘My food.’

‘Why does it smell like – that? What _is_ it?’ They seemed equal parts disgusted and intrigued.

He went back and grabbed it before sitting cross-legged by the pool edge. Opening it, he showed them the pizza inside and they recoiled, eyes riveted to it.

‘It’s just pizza,’ Chan snorted, amused. ‘Oily and salty and cheesy and very tasty.’

‘It... does not smell healthy,’ Felix said warily.

Laughing outright at that, Chan shook his head. ‘That’s because it’s not.’

‘Then why are you eating it?’ they asked, nonplussed.

He shrugged, scalding his fingertips as he tore off a triangle. ‘Like I said, it tastes good.’

Fearing no god, Chan made short work of his piece despite how hot it was, while Felix looked on in morbid fascination.

‘Do you want to try some?’ he asked.

They reared back, ear-fins flaring wide. ‘Why would I want to do that?’ they retorted, affronted. ‘If it is unhealthy for you, it might kill me.’

Chan considered this as he ripped off a second piece. ‘I doubt it would kill you,’ he said. ‘Not if you only had a really small bit, though I wouldn’t recommend more than that because it might make you sick. But –’ he shrugged nonchalantly – ‘it’s up to you.’

Felix seemed to take that as a challenge, their chin lifting and their shoulders squaring. ‘Fine. I will try a very small bit of this... pizza.’

Chan smiled and tore a tiny piece off his slice, trying to avoid too much cheese (what if they were lactose intolerant?) and reasoning that the saltiness of the olive couldn’t be much worse than tasting sea water every day. He held it out for them but their hands stayed on the orange tiles and, instead, they darted forward and nimbly took the morsel in their teeth.

Startled, he stayed quite still but they’d already leaned back, their focus on the pizza. A confused sort of grimace crossed their face, like they weren’t sure what to think of it, and from the way their jaw was moving, he thought they might be rolling it around in their mouth.

At last swallowing, Felix said, ‘It is very intense. I understand now what you mean about it being oily.’

‘Yep,’ Chan agreed. ‘Not too bad though?’

‘We shall see,’ they replied, giving him a narrow-eyed look. ‘If I become unwell from this, I may demand retribution.’

Chan was mildly surprised at how unconcerned he was by that. Then again, this wasn’t much after having them explicitly threaten to eat his flesh when he’d first brought them to the pool. Speaking of which –

‘You must trust me a bit more than you did yesterday. You wouldn’t have eaten the pizza then.’

Felix became motionless and Chan briefly wondered if he ought not to have mentioned it. But they did not react badly, staying where they were and staring blankly into the middle distance.

‘I did not know if I could trust you,’ they finally said, slow and quiet. ‘Now... you told me you wanted to show me that you are one of the decent humans. I believe that more than I did yesterday.’

They blinked at him and their eyes did not swirl.

Day three of Chan having a mer person in his pool started, as was now routine, with him diving down to the fish markets, spending an alarming amount on fresh seafood, and hauling it back again for Felix. He preferred walking whenever he could while out of the city but today was a gym day so he went into the little garage next to the bach and started up his sleek silver Audi.

Then, having warned Felix about the car sounds and left them with the clock again, Chan drove to the town’s single gym. He had no trouble finding a park on the street – few people were about this early on a Thursday morning in the sleepy holiday town.

The alarmingly peppy kid manning the counter bid him good morning when he walked in and Chan murmured a response, swiping his membership card through the reader and heading straight for the lockers outside the changing rooms. After removing his water bottle and sweat towel, he stuffed his bag inside his usual one and secured the door with his combination lock.

He followed the short corridor around into the central room, filled with all manner of machines, a stack of free weights in one corner, and mirrors on the left wall, which led around to the aerobics studio. There was a line of tinted windows on the long wall opposite Chan, looking out over a cluster of shops and, beyond that, the local park. Behind him, set on the wall above the doorway, were several large, flat-screen TVs showing assorted sports channels. The games that played across them were completely inaudible of course, what with the noise of the air con units and the electro music pulsing out of the speakers dotted around the room.

There was a broad-shouldered woman working with dumbbells in front of the mirrors, a foreign guy on the leg press, and – Chan brightened – Changbin on one of the treadmills.

‘Morning,’ Chan greeted him as he hopped onto the adjacent treadmill.

Changbin, three minutes into a jog according to the display on his machine, smiled at the elder. ‘Morning, hyung,’ he replied, the lingering softness of sleep dragging at his words.

Starting at a light run, Chan raised a brow. ‘Late night, Binnie?’

‘Not _that_ late,’ Changbin said, dismissively flapping his hand. ‘Had to rescue a couple of abandoned kittens from an alley on the way home. It was after dinner with noona so everywhere was shut and I couldn’t take them anywhere except back to the apartment.’

‘Doesn’t your complex prohibit pets?’ Chan asked, a touch incredulous at his friend’s spontaneity.

‘Yes,’ Changbin sighed. ‘But they were tiny and helpless and I’m not a _monster_. At least the ajummas next door love me, so if they hear the kittens I don’t think they’ll report me.’

‘Please tell me you’re not intending to keep them though,’ Chan said, huffing slightly as the treadmill’s speed picked up.

‘Nah, I’m not as stupid as I was at nineteen, hyung,’ Changbin grumbled, fringe bouncing as his pace likewise increased. ‘Gonna ask around at work; I think Yongsun-noona is in a pet-friendly building.’

A vague memory stirred in Chan’s mind and his lips kicked up mischievously. ‘Doesn’t Minho have –’

‘Oh my god, hyung, no –’

‘Why not, huh? I definitely recall you telling me how Minho once spent your entire break showing you photos of his cat. That makes him a suitable candidate for the kittens.’

Changbin groaned. ‘Fine, if Yongsun-noona doesn’t work out, I’ll ask him. Now shut up and run.’

They spent an hour and a half going through their circuit. Chan’s muscles still hadn’t forgiven him for carrying Felix up all those stairs so he had to be a little gentle with himself on some of the machines so he didn’t strain something. Changbin, of course, noticed and asked if he was alright.

‘Yeah, I’m fine, I just overworked myself on my run the other day,’ Chan said, technically not lying.

Changbin didn’t look impressed, cocking his head questioningly and making his earrings jingle.

‘No, really,’ Chan insisted, swiping sweat from his brow with his towel. ‘It’s – I had to carry... weight. A lot of it, for a while. It wiped me out, okay?’

Understanding flashed across Changbin’s face and, after a moment, he nodded. ‘Okay. Take care of yourself, hyung. It’d be a bit embarrassing if you needed a knee replacement before thirty, hmm?’

Chan spluttered, indignant, and hauled his best friend into a headlock, growling about insufferable youngsters while Changbin laughed himself silly.

By the end of the circuit, they were both sweaty, sore, and wide awake. Nothing like ninety minutes of hard exercise to get the blood pumping, as far as Chan was concerned, once again glad that Changbin had press ganged him into joining the gym.

The place was a little busier as they made their way to the lockers, towels around their necks, bottles drained, but the changing rooms were empty. Completely shameless, Changbin sang while in the shower, some bubbly pop song Chan had had the misfortune of hearing one too many times in the milkshake bar, and he duly told the younger to ‘kindly shut up!’

When they were finishing dressing, Chan slipping on his socks and shoes, Changbin styling his hair in the mirror, the latter extended an unexpected offer.

‘Hey, hyung, I’m going out with a few workmates on Saturday night, just for BBQ, and, uh, I thought I’d ask you? If you want to come? Yongsun-noona’s bringing her girlfriend and Jaemin’s bringing his boyfriends...’

Changbin trailed off, meeting Chan’s eyes in the mirror.

‘Binnie, look,’ Chan began, apology threaded through his voice.

‘It’d just be for a couple of hours, you could leave whenever you wanted,’ Changbin wheedled, but Chan shook his head.

‘Thanks for thinking of me, really, but no. I can’t.’ His tone brooked no argument.

Changbin sighed, looking down at the comb in his hands for a second before nodding. When he looked up again, his expression was clear, no resentment in his eyes. ‘No worries, hyung. Maybe next time.’

‘Yeah, maybe next time,’ Chan echoed faintly.

Needless to say, he felt like shit for the rest of the day.

He’d never told Changbin this (and he never intended to) but every time the younger man invited him out on a group date with co-workers, other friends, pretty much anyone Chan didn’t know well, and he declined the offer – well, he felt like this. Like a completely crap friend. It was just a shared meal, two or three hours of pleasant company and good food, but the mere thought of it made him feel trapped, anxious, and faintly nauseous.

Chan had always been a reasonably quiet person, quite happy to stick with his small circle of close friends, uninterested in the company of strangers. Then his parents had died and he’d become a borderline recluse, utterly incapable on a social level. Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung – those were just about the only people he’d been able to calmly talk to in the year following the car crash.

Oh, his mandatory psychiatrist had had plenty of theories to suggest, lots of long words to throw around. She’d gone on and on about how his trust in humanity had been shaken on a fundamental level, how he saw everyone whom he didn’t have a bond of trust with as indirectly responsible for killing his parents. And so fucking what if she was right? Maybe he did have a grudge against his whole goddamn race and their shitty, shitty society which would lead a man to drink himself stupid then get behind the wheel of a car.

He certainly felt sympathetic to Felix, forced to put their life in the hands of an unknown human. Gods above, Chan would sooner walk off the edge of the cliff than do that. It was why his friends had practically lived with him for those first, awful six months after the accident – Chan had opted to live alone rather than cede autonomy over himself to his vaguely-familiar uncle and aunt and neither Jisung, Changbin, or Hyunjin had trusted him enough not to keep a very close eye on him.

And they’d been right not to, hadn’t they? If he’d been left alone for more than a minute, Chan could think of at least six separate instances when he would’ve given in to the ferocious grief wrapped tightly around his heart and quietly slipped away.

Now, seven years on, it was only in his very lowest moments that Chan even slightly wished his friends hadn’t stopped him.

Thankfully, today was not one of those moments, but it certainly pushed him a step or two closer to it and that made him even more inward-focused than usual.

Upon arriving at the bach, he took only a moment to let Felix know he was back before heading inside to his improvised studio and collapsing on the plush two-seater couch. There was a thick blanket draped over the back of it for exactly these kind of situations and he pulled it completely over himself, curling up into a ball. He hadn’t unpacked any of his gym gear or even taken off his shoes but right now Chan just didn’t care.

The music room was his safe space so, despite not being able to stand having anything playing during these episodes of his, he always came here. With the lights off, the door shut, the blanket and his arms over his head – Chan was just barely strong enough to hold himself together, to stop himself flying to messy, jagged pieces.

He lay there and he breathed and quivered and breathed some more.

Changbin didn’t know how much his offers hurt his hyung but he knew _Chan_, which meant he never hassled Chan when he turned them down and he didn’t ask frequently, just once in a while. But once in a while was still too often.

Today was worse than usual. Chan wasn’t always driven to use his most desperate self-defence mechanisms. He knew why today was different – too close to the anniversary, his mind already in a vulnerable place.

So he lay there and he breathed and shivered and breathed some more.

Hearing his own breathing was important to him. There’d been a time when his episodes were routinely bad enough that he gasped and choked and struggled for air. Now he didn’t take it for granted so he listened and he counted.

Thin gasp in – two, three – sharp huff out – two, three –

Chan lay on his couch in the warmth and the dark and he breathed.

And listened.

And counted.

And breathed.

And then, when at last it had passed, he gave in to his exhaustion and slept.

Consciousness found Chan sometime later, stiff and sweaty, hot and in serious need of a drink.

He managed to get tangled in the blanket in the process of removing it and standing up, nearly sending him crashing to the ground. His head throbbed angrily at the jostling and he groaned softly.

Kicking off his shoes immediately, Chan wobbled out of the studio to the bathroom, shedding clothes as he went. By the time he reached the shower, he was clad only in briefs. He turned the tap, rid himself of his final garment, and stepped into the shower, hissing as the cool water hit his overheated skin. He didn’t shut the glass door, as he hadn’t shut any of the others on his way here, and a fine mist of droplets ricocheted off him out onto his underwear and the bathmat.

Chan kept the temperature low and stood directly in the spray, eyes closed, head tilted back, arms limp at his sides. Slowly, his brain started coming back online and the headache receded somewhat. He’d already washed at the gym but that didn’t matter as he squeezed lemongrass-scented body wash into the palm of his hand. The delicate smell filtered through the room as he lathered himself up and he used more than was strictly necessary, comforted by its familiarity.

He shut off the water a few minutes later and stepped out. The bathroom wasn’t steamy but there was a damp warmth in the air and the dehumidifier kicked in, whirring quietly in the background as Chan shuffled over to the towel rack on the bathmat so he didn’t leave water everywhere. Briskly scrubbing himself to a semi-dry state with his plush towel, he avoided meeting his eyes in the mirror and didn’t bother tidying up behind himself before he left.

The towel wrapped around his waist, he went to his bedroom and pulled out a fresh set of clothes, loose and light, though they clung to him where he hadn’t properly dried himself. He dressed quickly, ran a hand through his damp hair, and took the towel back to the bathroom. Popping open a cabinet, he grabbed a couple of painkillers, swallowing them down with a mouthful of tap water and a wince at the bitter flavour.

Working swiftly but carefully so his headache didn’t scream back to full fury before the painkillers kicked in, he bustled about clearing up his discarded clothes and abandoned gym bag. The shower had refreshed him, put a little steel in his spine, but that didn’t mean he was _better_. He still felt bruised and exhausted, inside and out.

That was something Chan had learned a few years ago – these goddamn episodes of his (he hated that word, made them sound regular and expected and _predictable_) took a lot out of him. He had to treat himself with a little extra care after one; didn’t want to set off another one, did he?

So he steered clear of direct sunlight through any of the windows and trod lightly to avoid aggravating his head. He left the door of the music room closed after he’d retrieved his shoes; there’d be no work done today.

Knowing he should eat something (both for the energy boost and to hurry along the painkillers), Chan went out to the front room, turned right into the kitchen. His phone lay on the counter next to his wallet and keys. Tucking the latter two away in their cubby, he woke the phone, saw he had unopened messages from Changbin. Without opening them, he set it to silent and put it away. Changbin wouldn’t expect an immediate answer anyway.

Chan glanced at the clock, having completely failed to notice the time on his phone, and wasn’t too surprised to see it was early afternoon. His... episode and following nap had eaten up a few hours.

And... wasn’t there something he was forgetting?

His gaze flicked up to the sliding door, seeing the veranda, the pool, the parasol –

_Oh shit._

His body jerked, as though about to lunge for the door, but he paused. If he was out in the blazing hot sun for more than half a minute, his headache was going to devour him. Plus, Felix wouldn’t want to be out in it for long either. And, well, all he’d done was be a bit terse with them. Surely that wouldn’t piss them off _too_ much.

_One step at a time._

Nodding to himself, Chan decided to stay indoors till later. Till the sun was gentler and he felt ready to grapple (hopefully only verbally) with a potentially peeved mer person.

Decision made, he hauled open the fridge.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in his bedroom, windows open behind his closed curtains to let a little fresh air in. Silence lay thick in the room, broken only by the faint hum of the air con unit opposite his bed, the whisper of his breath, the soft rustling of sheets when he rolled over.

He managed to sleep a bit more, which was good because he was unlikely to get much, if any, tonight. After the initial crash that followed these things, it was like his body went into hyper-alert mode and refused to feel tired for anywhere between ten and eighteen hours.

So Chan dozed and snacked and took some more painkillers when his headache returned not long after six. His fingers itched for his notebooks, but when he opened one, he couldn’t write anything at all. No notes, no lyrics, nothing. He didn’t push it, simply putting his writing equipment away in his bedside table again.

The ferocious temperatures of earlier in the day had faded somewhat by now and the sunlight streaming in through the front of the house had taken on a rosy gold tint.

Chan supposed now was as good a time as any to go and see Felix.

He walked out into the warm evening air onto the veranda and looked down at the pool. The parasol was still in place, the towels yet clipped to it. No sign of the mer, though he supposed they had little reason to come to the surface.

Standing at the edge of the pool, tips of his toes curling over the rounded end of the tiles, he immediately saw Felix curled in a far corner.

‘Felix,’ he called, only his voice was rough with disuse and the name sort of croaked out of him instead. He cleared his throat, tried again. ‘Felix!’

The mer did not move. Chan frowned. Were they okay? He walked around to their corner, slowly squatting down so as not to make his yet-tender head spin and tip him in.

‘Felix?’ he asked. ‘Are you alright?’

Still no response.

‘If you don’t reply, I’m getting in the –’

The mer uncoiled partially, contorting so they were looking up at him. Even through two metres of water, Chan could tell they were not happy with him and his heart sank. Oh dear.

‘Listen, I’m sorry about –’

He was expecting to be interrupted, so he didn’t fall in when Felix surged to the surface, spraying him with cool droplets, but he did rock back on his heels, a hand gripping the edge of the tiles.

Felix practically glittered in the evening sun and their eyes swirled dangerously, threatening to pull Chan into a helpless trance. He dropped his gaze immediately, absently noting the purple bruise on their elbow and the clean-looking sheet strip around their belly.

‘You ignore me _all day_ and now you call me calmly?’ they demanded, a growl rumbling deep in their throat. ‘I am tempted to give you a taste of my claws.’

Alarm skittered up Chan’s spine but he pushed it aside, hoping that they would give him a chance to explain before eviscerating him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated, figuring it was good to start out diplomatically. ‘I didn’t mean for it to happen –’

‘It was an accident? Did you _forget about me?’_

Chan exhaled sharply through his nose, staring fixedly at their neck. ‘Please let me finish,’ he said steadily, not quite chastening but not far off either.

Silence fell and Felix actually sank a couple of inches in the water.

He continued. ‘While I was out this morning, something happened that upset me. I didn’t know it was going to happen but it did and – and it meant that when I got back here, I had to go and be by myself for a while, until I felt better. Alright?’

When Felix did not reply, Chan chanced lifting his gaze to their eyes. He was mildly surprised to find them no longer twisting and churning. Indeed, there was an odd expression on the mer’s face and they watched him with an emotion he could not quite place his finger on.

‘Do you?’ they asked, seemingly apropos of nothing but at least their tone was calmer.

‘Do I what?’

‘Do you feel better?’ Their eyes tracked restlessly between his, unblinking.

Oh.

‘Uh. Yes. Yes, I feel better, thank you.’

‘Did you destroy it?’

Chan was starting to feel like a parrot as he helplessly asked, ‘Did I destroy _what?’_

Felix tossed their head impatiently. ‘The thing that hurt you, that made you sad. If you bring it to me, _I_ can destroy it.’

A startled huff of laughter slipped from his mouth and he shook his head, the weight in him a little lighter already. ‘No, I didn’t destroy it and no, you can’t destroy it either.’

The mer frowned, smacking the water with their hand in a familiar show of frustration. ‘Why not? It might upset you again.’

Smiling wryly, Chan said, ‘My friend did not mean to make me sad. He did it by accident.’

They recoiled in disbelief. ‘Your _friend_ hurt you?’ Felix hissed. ‘Has he apologised? Did you bloody him, at least?’

_What?_

Chan gaped. ‘No, I did not! That’s – that’s not how we deal with things here, okay? He didn’t apologise because I didn’t tell him and no, I’m not going to. It would make him sad too and then I’d be sad again and that wouldn’t help anyone!’

‘But he might hurt you by accident again,’ Felix insisted. ‘If you don’t tell him what he did, how can he avoid it next time?’

Having leaned out a bit too far over the pool in his passion, he pulled back a bit before saying, ‘Because I don’t _want_ him to avoid it.’

Felix finally blinked, cocking their head in confusion, and Chan realised that his words were completely honest. He sat abruptly on the tiles, frantic energy calming as the truth of what he’d said really hit him.

‘I don’t... I don’t want him to stop asking me. I don’t want him to think I’m still so... messed up.’

The mer waited only a moment before asking, ‘What is “messed up”?’

‘Broken.’ The word fell from his tongue before he could even consider stopping it. ‘It means I’m broken.’

Felix sank further in the water, looking up at him so they could catch his downward-turned gaze. ‘Explain. Tell me how you are broken. You do not look it.’

Chan swallowed thickly, hands forming loose fists in his lap. ‘It doesn’t always show on the outside, Felix. You can be broken inside.’

‘I know this,’ they said, nodding. ‘But your eyes have been clear every time I have seen you. Except now. They are not clear now.’

He gritted his teeth against the threat of returning, unpleasant emotions he’d already dealt with today. Once was enough.

‘You don’t want to know,’ he muttered, ‘and I don’t want to talk about it.’

Felix’s lips curled slightly, like they had something they wanted to say, but to his relief they made no comment.

‘Anyway.’ Chan cleared his throat. ‘I just wanted to let you know why I ignored you.’

‘I understand,’ Felix murmured, their voice husky.

Quiet reigned for a short time, both of them staying as they were. Only the distant sounds of the ocean, of people on the beach, of the shrieking gulls, and the lapping of water against the mer’s skin could be heard. And Chan’s breath, of course. He could hear that.

Before he started counting it again, he said hurriedly, ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ and made to get up.

But he stopped, stuck in an awkward half-crouch, when a wet hand wrapped loosely around his ankle. Startled, he looked to the mer with wide eyes.

‘Do you want to swim with me?’ they asked solemnly.

Chan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. ‘Uh –’

‘You can show me how humans swim and I can show you how my kind swims.’

Were they really suggesting this? Their expression _seemed_ genuine in its openness but he could not help wonder at their motive. They weren’t going to drown him, surely?

‘Alright.’

Felix trilled, delighted, and tossed their head, pale hair gleaming in the gold light. They released him and moved further into the pool.

‘Come, then!’ they beckoned.

Hesitant only for a moment more, Chan forcefully threw all doubts and concerns clouding his mind out the window – including those worried about the state of the water after all those dead fish. It would be nice to swim again, especially considering the day he’d had, so he quickly removed his t-shirt and shorts.

Clad in just his black briefs, he contemplated cannon-balling in but swiftly decided against it. Instead he sat on the edge the orange tiles and dipped his feet in, feeling his shoulders relax at the touch of cool water. Then he braced against the wall and pushed himself in, submerging with a splash. He was back up a second later, gasping at the sudden temperature change and wiping water away from his eyes.

An inelegant squeak burst out of Chan when he felt something smooth and firm brush his legs. Looking down, he saw Felix swimming a tight circle around him and he felt a renewed sense of awe at how fluidly they moved.

He took a deep breath and jack-knifed down, using powerful strokes with his strong arms to force himself closer to the concrete floor. Felix, graceful where Chan was clumsy, twisted effortlessly so they could see him. He watched their tail ripple and their fins angle this way and that, fine-tuning the mer’s movements. The neat slits on either side of their ribs opened and closed, letting them breathe in a way he could not mirror.

Felix grinned down at him and Chan suddenly wondered if this was what it felt like to be prey, looking up into the eyes of certain death. The mer dived, hair flowing behind them, and he sculled with his hands till his heels bumped into the floor. As they swam around him, they opened their mouth and warbling clicks and trills came from their throat, a language he did not understand.

Pressing his feet to the concrete beneath him, Chan launched himself backwards at an angle so he slowly rose to the surface. Felix followed him and they were waiting for him when he emerged, breathing heavily.

‘You’re not terrible,’ they commented, ‘for a human.’

Chan snorted, flicking back his hair. ‘Thanks,’ he replied drily, treading water to stay upright. ‘I _can_ do more than that, you know.’

‘Show me,’ Felix ordered eagerly.

He raised a brow at them. ‘There’s this word we humans use,’ he said. ‘It’s called “please” and we use it when we want to ask someone for something. It’s _polite_.’

Felix stared at him, not understanding his point for a long moment. Then their eyes narrowed, yipped sharply (like a dolphin, only deeper), and did a backwards somersault, their long fins splashing water in his face.

Chan spluttered and kicked so he floated a little further away. By the time Felix’s head was up again though, he was laughing. Their eyes were practically slits at this point.

‘What is so funny?’ they growled, clearly intending to be threatening but somehow completely missing the mark.

Grabbing onto the side of the pool with one hand so he didn’t sink and drown, Chan said breathlessly, ‘You’re such a drama queen.’

Felix squirmed in obvious irritation. ‘What is that?’

He smiled at them, surprised at the slight swell of fondness rising behind his sternum. ‘You’re clearly not used to asking for things,’ he noted, not answering their question.

‘That is not how we usually do things,’ the mer grumbled. ‘Either I take what I need or someone takes from me.’

A predatory species indeed.

‘Do you ever ask?’

They inclined their head. ‘With those we trust.’

‘Are there many others whom you trust?’ Chan prodded.

‘No. Stop asking questions, I told you to swim.’

Another laugh erupted from him. ‘Only if you say please. You trust me, don’t you?’

The mer glared, tail slashing through the water like that of a bad-tempered cat. Chan just grinned, still feeling oddly fearless. Maybe it was because their eyes hadn’t started swirling, despite their annoyance.

‘Please swim,’ they relented at last.

Chan didn’t waste time replying, simply ducking under the water and pushing off the wall towards the far end. He’d always been best at breaststroke so he stuck with that, the first few strokes a foot below the surface before he had to come up for air again. It’d been a few days since his last swim but he quickly fell into the groove again, slicing through the water to the end of the pool. Then, just to show off, he did a forward roll instead of stopping and launched himself back in the direction of the parasol.

This time he did backstroke, his gaze on the clear sky up above, streaked with all the colours of a golden sunset. When he knew he was near Felix’s shelter, Chan tipped his head back a little further to gauge the distance and promptly spent his momentum in a backwards roll, wincing as some salt water managed to get in his nose.

‘How was that?’ he panted as the mer’s head appeared above the surface.

‘For a creature with no tail or gills, you manage quite well,’ Felix replied. ‘It is interesting to watch how you move in the water. There is little form and it is very inelegant but... you do manage.’

Chan huffed, amused. ‘Well, show me how you swim then.’ He’d already seen them swim, of course, but he had no problem with seeing it again.

Felix barred their teeth at him. ‘Say please.’

Lips twitching up into a wry smirk, Chan obligingly said, ‘Please.’

He and the mer went under simultaneously, Chan using the lip of the pool to hold himself down, and in the time it took to blink, Felix was just above the floor. The evening light, weakening by the minute, did not penetrate very well that far and the mer’s natural camouflage worked with the deepening shadows so that their outline was smudged. Only the stark white of their makeshift bandage stood out.

Even had Chan been above the water, he would have held his breath as Felix suddenly _launched_ into motion. They pushed off from the floor, claws no doubt leaving a neat row of holes in the concrete. Their tail rippled, serpentine and lethally graceful, and then they were at the far end, a blurry, ominous shape in the gloom.

Allowing himself to float up again, Chan breathed deeply in the warm air and tipped his head back onto the tiles. There was a quiet sense of wonder tingling in his fingertips and down his spine. That a creature as powerful and dangerous and magnificent as the mer in his pool existed was incredible enough, but to see them in their element? To see them so utterly at one with their surroundings? He felt honoured.

‘I’ve never seen anyone or anything swim like you,’ he said, point blank, as soon as Felix was near him again. ‘You’re amazing.’

The mer flashed their sharp teeth in a pleased grin, rolling playfully through the water before saying smugly, ‘Of course you haven’t seen anything like me. Your praise is welcome but I must add that this is not my full capability.’ They glanced down towards their belly, upper lip curling back slightly. ‘If I swim faster, I will hurt myself. Besides, this pool is small; I could not swim at my best in here without hitting a wall.’

Chan whistled in wide-eyed awe. The pool was fifteen metres long, hardly _cramped_. It was difficult imagine Felix needing an even bigger distance to reach full speed but he did not doubt their word.

He thought they must surely be bored of his presence by now, especially since he had proven he was nowhere near on their level while in the water, but when he glanced at the bach, the mer spoke up.

‘Come, let us swim some more,’ they said imperiously. ‘I will show you how to move better so you are not so awkward.’

When he hesitated, they misread his silence and huffed, then grumbled an aggravated, ‘Please.’

And Chan’s doubts about his continued welcome faded to nothing, a smile unfurling across his face. Perhaps they were bored (likely), perhaps they were actually trying to distract him from his earlier upset (less likely) – it did not matter.

‘Okay,’ he agreed easily.

He paddled out to where Felix floated and the pair played about until the sky turned dark and Chan was forced to get out of the pool before he accidentally drowned.

Three days later, Chan woke deep in the night.

He sat bolt upright and trembled, hands fisted in his sweat-drenched sheet, struggling to detach his mind from a clawing nightmare. His breath came in short, shallow pants, causing a sharp pain to spike in his chest. Vaguely aware that he was hyperventilating, he rolled forward onto his knees and put his head down, trying to slow his breathing. It took him several long minutes of rasping inhalations and focus but at last his breathing was under control again.

Chan also had a pounding headache which he knew would stick around for ages if he didn’t help it along. Sighing deeply for his futile hope to have a full night’s sleep, he clambered out of bed, only forcing his eyes all the way open when he smacked his knee into the doorframe. Muttering a slew of slurred curses, he made his way through the dim beach house to the bathroom.

Turning on the lamp above the mirror and blinking away starbursts across his vision when he accidentally looked at the light, Chan fumbled with the cabinet’s catch for a moment before it clicked and opened. He grabbed a box of paracetamol and popped two tablets in his mouth, swallowing them with a mouthful of tap water. He shivered as he felt the cold water slide down his oesophagus.

Then he accidentally made eye contact with himself and sort of froze. His short dark hair was in its usual state of sleep-induced disarray, his eyes heavy-lidded and featuring noticeable bags. Unlike, say, Jisung, Chan had never been able to get away with a trashed sleep schedule; his body demanded a regular six to eight hours of rest. So around this time of year, he always got smears of tired lavender skin under his eyes, his sleeping pattern wrecked –

What was that?

Chan’s rambling internal dialogue fell quiet and he frowned, listening intently for –

Yes, there it was again, a low, wailing sound like the wind whistling through a narrow avenue between tall rocks. Only there were no structures up here that would cause the wind to make such a sound.

He turned away from the mirror towards the door and when the sound came a third time, he flicked off the light and left the bathroom. Chan walked lightly up the corridor, following the strange noise to the front room, and by the time he’d reached the sliding door, he knew it must be coming from the mer.

The moon was only half full but the sky was completely clear of any clouds. The stars glittering like diamonds strewn across a sheet of black velvet and the scene before him was more than adequately illuminated.

And there in the middle of the pool, rendered silver in the moonlight, was Felix. They were facing the ocean and moving oddly, dipping and rising, dipping and rising. Their head tipped back and the mournful cry came once more, ringing out into the night. A few moments of quiet passed and then they did it again.

Chan stood there and listened a while. He could not tell if the mer was calling to someone whose reply he could not hear or if their cry was for the sea alone. He did not want to interrupt or disturb them but... their song was beautiful. As quietly as he could, he flipped the lock on the door and slid it open just enough that he could slip through the gap. He stepped out onto the cool wood of the deck, practically holding his breath in his efforts to go unheard, but if the mer noticed him, they gave no sign of it.

Sweaty skin prickling in the chill of the wind coming off the sea, Chan did not risk approaching. Instead he sank into a squat, arms folded over his knees, just watching.

Felix tossed their silver head back and sang to the distant stars. The ululating call was so alien, so distinctly non-human that Chan shivered. He could understand how sailors of times long gone might be fatally distracted by the cry of a mer, for as foreign as the sound was, it was equally as captivating. Similar to when Felix looked at him and their eyes swirled like the depths of a whirlpool – hypnotic and otherworldly.

The mer dipped below the surface of the pool and emerged silently at the other end to let loose another haunting cry.

Chan wondered if anyone had ever recorded this. Unlikely. It would make such beautiful music, though. He closed his eyes and thought of the stubborn song he’d been trying to compose recently. It was not difficult to imagine Felix’s voice harmonising with the melody. Surprisingly easy, in fact, like this was exactly what he’d been missing. If it was, no wonder he’d been having such trouble; no human instrument or voice could make such sounds.

He swayed where he crouched, letting the mer’s call pull him from side to side. The music wound its way around him, weaving through his thoughts until it was all-encompassing –

Smothering him –

Drowning him –

_He couldn’t hear himself breathe._

Chan’s eyes snapped open and he thumped forward onto his hands and knees in blind panic, gasping for air and feeling that awful, familiar burn in his chest.

‘Chan?’

His headache returned with a screaming vengeance and he groaned as a sharp throbbing started up in his temple.

‘Chan, what are you doing here?’

His pulse began to slow and he no longer felt like throwing up, utter exhaustion sweeping over him instead. Twice in one night he’d been reminded that his lungs were not entirely his own and gods above, that hadn’t happened for a while.

‘You shouldn’t be listening, it’s not safe for you!’

‘I noticed,’ he tried to yell back, but he barely managed a croak before a fit of coughing overtook him.

‘Are you alright? I’ve stopped singing; are you alright now? Chan?’

He’d be fine in a minute but right now his lungs were trying to escape his body via his mouth and his head hurt so much he thought this might be migraine territory. Distantly, he heard a great sloshing noise but couldn’t look up to see what was happening, his cough finally letting up.

A series of wet sounds and then –

‘Chan?’

He whipped his head up in shock, his balance so shit that he almost fell sideways, but pale hands streaked with scales and tipped with deadly claws grabbed his upper arms and hauled him upright. An undignified grunt of pure surprise ripped from his throat and he stared wide-eyed at the mer sitting right in front of him, their tail coiled and curved to keep them from falling over.

‘Are you alright?’ Felix asked very seriously, brows furrowed with a fierce intensity.

‘I – I’m fine,’ Chan wheezed, pulse all a-flutter once more as he leaned back against the door behind him.

The mer released him cautiously, like they weren’t convinced he wasn’t about to keel over again. ‘You do not sound fine.’

‘Yeah, well,’ he panted. ‘It’s been an exciting few minutes. Give me a sec and I’ll be right as rain.’

They shifted, using their leanly muscled arms to help move their weight while the thin end of their tail curled forward. Their fins, rendered to a shimmering translucency in the light, draped delicately over the wood; no longer were they crumpled and injured.

‘I did not mean to catch you in my song,’ Felix said softly, their voice especially husky.

Chan exhaled smoothly through his nose and his lashes flicked up as he lifted his gaze from the mer’s tail. Their expression was the gentlest he’d ever seen.

‘You didn’t know I was awake,’ he rasped, throat rough. ‘I had a bad dream so I was out of bed and I – I heard you. I came to listen.’

Felix hummed, still watching him closely. ‘Our songs are not meant for human ears. The effect is not so strong for some people but you... you fell for it very quickly.’

‘It was beautiful,’ he said honestly. ‘Even though it nearly, well, suffocated me, I can’t help but want to hear it again.’

‘I was singing to... another,’ they offered unexpectedly. A slow blink before they continued, ‘One whom I trust. They are looking for me.’

Despite having been forced to accept the existence of mer people for almost a week, Chan’s breath caught at the thought of another being so close.

‘Did they... hear you?’ he asked hesitantly; it would suck big time if Felix had a friend swimming along the coastline trying in vain to find them.

Felix nodded. ‘They did. Our songs do not carry so well through the air but they are close enough, though I doubt you would have been able to hear their reply.’

They raised a brow in question and Chan shook his head.

‘I only heard you.’

‘Mmm... They were worried that the storm had killed me but they could find no body so they thought perhaps I was hurt and trapped ashore.’

‘What did you tell them?’

‘That I am injured, yes, but I will recover,’ Felix replied, plucking at the bandage around their abdomen with delicate claws. ‘And I said that I am not trapped. They were disbelieving at the idea of a human helping me.’

The mer snorted and tossed their head, silvery hair glinting, seemingly amused at their friend’s concern. Chan could only marvel at how quickly and thoroughly their attitude towards him had changed.

‘Well, I’m glad you, um, got in touch with them,’ he mumbled, letting his eyes close for a moment as his head throbbed particularly fiercely.

Felix disregarded the comment entirely and asked in a hushed tone, ‘Are you hurting?’

‘Mm, a bit. Just gotta wait for the painkillers to kick in.’

The mer made a small sound in the back of their throat and Chan cracked open an eye, surprised again to see that intense look of concern on their face.

‘I am sorry,’ they whispered, somehow akin to a kicked puppy. ‘The songs do not usually cause pain.’

‘Ah well, that wasn’t completely the song’s fault,’ he muttered. ‘Bad dream, remember?’

They frowned. ‘Your dreams hurt you?’

Chan huffed in faint amusement, allowing his eye to close again. ‘They do when I wake up and can’t breathe.’

Felix hissed softly. ‘And then when you heard my song –’

‘Yeah. It’s not your fault, okay? Just unlucky timing.’

Really, really unlucky timing.

‘You look... very tired, Chan,’ the mer said. ‘You should go back to your bed and rest. Sleep is a good distraction from pain.’

Sleep sounded amazing right about now but he didn’t like how knowledgeable Felix sounded in their last statement.

Opening both eyes, he fixed the mer with as stern a look as he could and asked, ‘Has your stomach been hurting and you haven’t told me about it?’

‘It does not hurt much now,’ they replied with an insouciant toss of their head. ‘It is of no concern.’

When Chan made as if to protest, Felix steamrollered right over him, declaring, ‘We are talking about _you_, not me. Return to your bed and sleep or I shall sit here until you do, by which time my tail will have dried out and I will be very grumpy.’

Unable to stop a smile creeping across his face, Chan sighed. ‘Alright, alright, you win, I’ll go to bed. Do you want any help getting back to the pool?’

A smooth, damp fin smacked lightly against his leg and Felix scowled. ‘I am not helpless. I got here by myself, didn’t I?’

Chan raised his hands in hasty surrender. ‘I know, I was just asking.’ He thought for a second, then added, ‘And you’ve never been helpless.’

The mer squinted at him like they weren’t sure he wasn’t making fun of them, before shaking their head and saying, ‘I will return without assistance. You have helped me too much already; I will never be free of my debt at this rate.’

‘Hey, I’ve already told you, there’s no debt here,’ Chan said, brow furrowing as he sat up. ‘I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do, not because I want anything from you.’

‘And I have already told _you_,’ Felix snipped, ‘that the ocean must have balance.’ They fixed him with a piercing stare, their eyes no less alluring now than when they swirled. ‘I owe you a life debt, Chan, and I _will_ pay it.’

He groaned and rubbed his forehead. ‘Ugh. We can argue in the morning, I’m too tired for this. Hurry up and get in the pool or I’m gonna pick you up.’

Hissing like an affronted cat, Felix rolled over and began moving across the veranda with surprising dexterity, nowhere near as awkward as Chan thought they might be. He was tempted to ask about it but decided not too – he really was very tired. That conversation could wait.

Pushing to his feet, he swayed slightly, staying by the door until Felix disappeared into the water with a splash. They did not resurface and he took only another moment to bask in the silver moonlight and the peaceful night air before heading indoors. And to his pleasant surprise, sleep came to him easily.

The next morning, Chan rose early for his run. Felix was not visible when he left the bach and he did not seek them out, having no wish to disturb their rest.

He ran along the beach, trainers thumping against damp sand, birds squawking overhead, heartbeat pounding in his ears. All familiar sensations and sounds, comforting and constant. But he looked out to the sea, so still and flat and blue, and he knew there swam at least one other of Felix’s kind. Another predator with sharp claws and sharper teeth, the face of an almost-human and the tail of a sea creature.

His breath was a reassuringly rhythmic beat in his head but there was a mer in the ocean, perhaps still near to the coastline, waiting for their friend.

_Mother. There is a mer person in our pool and more in the sea. Did you or Father ever see one? Perhaps you saw a tail too long to be an ordinary fish; perhaps you saw a face shaped like a human’s with twisting eyes._

Or maybe his parents had never seen a mer. Maybe they, like countless others, had gone to the grave not knowing such beings existed.

Nearly tripping over a jutting outcrop, Chan forcefully shook himself free of such unnecessary thoughts before he could tumble face first onto a sharp rock. He tore his gaze from the smooth ocean, looking to the stairs that zigzagged up the cliff. As he trotted up them, thighs burning, he realised he wanted to talk to someone. Someone human. Obviously he couldn’t say everything but... hell, it’d been a wild few days and he needed to unload.

Fortunately, his nearest someone didn’t have work till noon on Mondays.

He called Changbin the minute he got back to the house, asked if they could meet up somewhere. Changbin informed him that he had no intention of getting out of his pyjamas anytime in the next three hours and invited him over to his flat. Chan said he’d be there in an hour.

Then he had a quick shower and took his car to the fish markets instead of walking. When he returned, he told Felix, who was merrily splashing about, that he was going out and they bid him a cheery goodbye.

With three minutes to spare, Chan parked outside Changbin’s apartment complex and made his way up to number 325.

‘That one isn’t even cute!’

Changbin’s voice rang out the moment Chan unlocked the flat’s door and stepped inside. Curiosity piqued, he slipped off his shoes and padded from the entryway to the lounge without announcing himself and sure enough, there was Changbin in his pyjamas on the couch watching – a cat show?

‘I reckon it’s pretty cute,’ Chan said casually, leaning against the doorjamb.

Changbin shrieked and fell off the couch, head whipping around with wide eyes, and Chan burst out laughing at the deer-in-headlights expression on his face.

‘Shit, hyung,’ Changbin moaned, flopping onto his back and draping an arm over his eyes. ‘A little warning wouldn’t go amiss.’

‘I called ahead, didn’t I? Or was that not you I spoke to?’ Chan chuckled (he was too old for snickering, dammit). ‘Now, what’s this about cute cats, huh?’

Glaring at him, Changbin rolled to his feet and turned off the TV, pretending like his ears weren’t turning pink. ‘Never you mind,’ he snarked, heading into the kitchen. ‘Do you want a drink? I was about to make tea.’

‘Sounds good,’ Chan replied, tucking his hands in his pockets and going over to the short breakfast bar, watching Changbin bustle about on the other side. ‘Where are the kittens?’

Changbin froze in the act of dropping a teabag into a mug. ‘Um.’

Chan smiled. ‘Let me guess, Yongsun-noona didn’t pan out.’

Heaving a beleaguered sigh, Changbin nodded, tousled fringe sliding forward. ‘Minho-hyung has them. He said he’ll look into some animal shelters but I’m pretty sure he’s going to keep them.’

The kettle clicked and Changbin poured boiling water into the two prepared cups before topping them off with chilled water from the fridge.

‘Has he named them yet?’ Chan asked a touch smugly.

Sliding over a sunflower-patterned mug, Changbin nodded, a rueful little smile curling up one corner of his mouth. ‘Soonie and Doongie. Apparently Dori’s taken a shine to them already.’

Dancing his fingers around the rim of his cheerful mug, Chan raised a brow. ‘Apparently?’

Changbin was going a little red again and his shoulders defensively as he muttered, ‘He messaged me last night.’

Chan’s smile broadened, his cheeks creasing in amusement. However, he made no further comment, instead taking a cautious sip of his sweet fruit tea.

‘But,’ Changbin continued, leaning forward and propping his forearms on the counter between them, ‘I don’t think you called me so urgently this early in the morning to talk about the kittens.’

Chan looked up from his mug, meeting the familiar dark eyes of the young man he trusted most in the world. ‘No,’ he agreed quietly. ‘It’s about –’

Ah hell, how was he meant to explain this?

‘Let me guess – your mystery visitor with the secrets.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, it’s about... them.’

Changbin watched him closely as he asked, ‘They got you in any trouble yet?’

‘No, no. Nothing like that.’ Chan shook his head, fiddling with his drink again.

‘Okay... You said they weren’t going to be with you long; are they leaving soon?’

‘Um.’ Were they? He didn’t actually know how quickly Felix was healing. It’d been a pretty bad gash on their belly though. ‘Soon, definitely, but... I’m not exactly sure how soon that is. Maybe a week or two.’

‘And how’s the, uh, co-habitation going?’ Changbin queried, tilting his head. ‘You haven’t had anyone over for more than twenty four hours in years.’

‘It’s not bad. They spend most of their time around the pool. That’s where they’re happiest.’

Straightening up and taking a sip from his own mug, Changbin raised his brows. ‘Remind me why they’re at your place? You’re not one for letting strangers in. What’s their name, anyway?’

‘Felix. Felix is their name.’ Hopefully the mer in question wouldn’t eat him alive for sharing that little piece of information.

‘Just Felix?’

‘They haven’t volunteered a last name and I haven’t asked for one,’ Chan explained. ‘As for why they’re with me, well...’

_Come on, you can do this. Tell the truth, just leave out the fishy bits._

He cleared his throat. ‘Remember that storm last week?’

Changbin nodded. ‘Yeah, it was a bad one.’

Chan echoed the action, only slower. ‘Right. Well, Felix got caught out in it and they were badly hurt. I found them the next day, when I went for a run. They didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I suggested they come and recover at the bach.’

‘Wait, you _found_ them? And they’re not better yet? Hyung, don’t you think they should go see a doctor?’

Mouth twisting into a wry smile, Chan shrugged. ‘Doctors aren’t really an option for them. And I don’t mean because they have no money and I’m being a stingy asshole,’ he added hastily.

Changbin squinted at him, trying to figure out everything Chan was clearly omitting. ‘You still haven’t said _why_ they’re with you. Felix not liking hospitals wouldn’t be a good enough reason for you to take them home.’

Chan bit his lip, tone taking a turn for the apologetic. ‘That’s part of the stuff I can’t tell you, sorry, Binnie.’

‘Which, by the way, isn’t reassuring in the _slightest_,’ Changbin grumbled, irritably tugging on a lock of his hair. ‘For all I know, they could be blackmailing you or something.’

‘I told you – no matter what you guess, you’re gonna get it wrong.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Changbin’s eyes glinted in challenge. ‘What about if I guessed that they’re an alien who crash-landed on the beach during the storm and you’re giving them a hidey-hole until their alien pals come get them?’

Chan laughed, startled at how close the guess was. ‘No,’ he said at last, ‘Felix isn’t an alien.’

‘Are you sure? Have you asked them?’

‘I haven’t asked but yes, I _am_ sure.’

Changbin tutted. ‘Don’t know if you don’t ask.’

Chan hid a secretive smile behind his mug as he lifted it to his mouth once more.

‘So, if you’re not in trouble because they’re threatening you, either with public humiliation or freaky alien powers, and if you’re not having a breakdown over sharing your space with someone again – why are you here, hyung?’

‘Because –’

_Because there’s a mer person in my pool and they _were_ threatening me but now I think we’re friends, maybe, and did I mention they’re _not_ human?_

‘Okay, maybe I am having a slight breakdown over the co-habitation thing. If it was anyone else –’ _anyone human_ – ‘I would’ve taken them to the hospital and left it at that but with Felix –’ _I’m all they’ve got here_ – ‘it’s different.’ He winced at his word choice. ‘There was just no other option. I don’t regret taking them in but it’s – it’s taking some getting used to.’

Understatement of the century, but whatever.

Changbin cocked his head, a worrying expression on his face. ‘They’re different? Different as in you like them?’

There was no innuendo in his tone but Chan felt the back of his neck heating up anyway because apparently once a sixteen year old, always a sixteen year old.

‘No, that’s not – I mean, I don’t _dis_like them but I don’t – ugh.’ He cut himself off before his rambling could get any worse, dropping his face in his hands as Changbin snorted with laughter. ‘I’m not helping them because I find them attractive,’ he clarified, voice muffled. ‘I’m helping them because it’s the right thing to do.’

‘But you _do_ find them attractive?’ Changbin asked playfully.

Chan lifted his head and glared. ‘No.’ An image flashed across his mind of Felix’s fair skin and silvery scales, their whirlpool eyes and delicate cupid’s bow. ‘Well, I mean, they’re attractive objectively but –’

Changbin burst out laughing again, his face scrunched with delight. Chan sighed in resignation and waited for his friend to calm down again.

‘Oh man,’ Changbin giggled several minutes later, still breathless with amusement. ‘Oh man, you should hear yourself, hyung. Just admit they’re hot before I bust a rib over here.’

But Felix _wasn’t_ hot. Well. Were they? Gods above, Chan hadn’t thought about them like that and it was fucking _weird_. Weird to be thinking of a being as blatantly non-human as the mer as... hot.

Beautiful, yes, but there was zero chance of him saying _that_.

‘Hot’s really not the right word,’ he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

‘Oh yeah? What _is_ the right word then, huh?’

Woops.

‘That is not the point here,’ Chan said loudly.

Changbin wasn’t done though, and he ignored Chan's obvious attempt to shift the topic, instead asking, ‘Do they think _you_’re attractive?’

‘Do they – what! No! I mean... I don’t think so. I _really_ don’t think so.’

Felix had only recently stopped thinking of him as their next meal and quite frankly that was good enough for him.

‘Have you asked?’ Changbin prodded, smirking up at Chan. ‘You’re a handsome guy, hyung.’

‘Thanks for the ego boost, Binnie, but I’m really sure of this one.’

‘What, are they married? Not interested in men? Ancient and decrepit?’

Chan squinted in frustration at his friend. ‘Why are you suddenly trying to hook me up with Felix? A minute ago, you were worried they were blackmailing me.’

Changbin shrugged and took a swig of tea before answering. ‘You don’t get interested in new people, hyung, which definitely makes this Felix different.’ Another shrug. ‘I gotta work with what I can get.’

Snorting, Chan shook his head. ‘You don’t need to play matchmaker for me. I don’t _want_ new people in my life right now.’

His expression suddenly a lot more serious and solemn than Chan liked, Changbin watched him with dark eyes and asked, ‘How long does “right now” last? Because as far as I can tell it’s been going for seven years.’

Chan’s breath caught in his throat and he dropped his gaze before it could betray more than he already had. But Changbin was undeterred and he reached out to lightly rest his hand on Chan’s wrist.

‘Hyung,’ he said, the words a soft plea.

Chan’s shoulders hunched, though he did not repudiate his best friend’s touch. Skin contact with another was already rare enough for him.

He managed to keep his voice steady as he said quietly, ‘Right now lasts as long as I need it to, Binnie. Not a moment less.’

Changbin gave a faint sigh, squeezing Chan’s wrist and letting go. ‘Always so stubborn, hyung. Even Jisung would go to bed when you told him to, rather than spend three hours arguing with you.’

One corner of his mouth threatening to curve, Chan wordlessly accepted the peace offering.

They moved to lighter topics after that, Changbin not pushing Chan any further, for which he was grateful. This was hardly the first time they’d had such a conversation and it would indubitably not be the last, but there was only so much of it he could take at one time. Especially now, when the anniversary of the crash was so close.

By the time he’d finished his tea, Chan felt a little more grounded than he had when he’d arrived, which he supposed meant the visit had been a success. Still –

‘I’m going to ask Felix if I can share their secret with you. The one they’ve shared with me, anyway,’ he added, standing by the door of Changbin’s flat. ‘It’s driving me just a little insane not being able to talk about it.’

‘I’m all ears if they give you the green light,’ Changbin replied cheerfully. ‘You know where I live et cetera et cetera.’

When Changbin offered Chan a hug, he accepted it, taking comfort in the soft warmth of the embrace. Then he left and drove back to the beach house on the clifftop and the mer who swam in his pool.

Upon getting out of his car, Chan was surprised to see heavy clouds gathering out over the sea. No, they had already gathered and now they were swiftly spreading across the sky, though they had not yet reached the cliff, still bathed in warm light of the sun.

_Another summer storm,_ he thought.

Chan unlocked the front door and, kicking his shoes off just inside, made his way through the house. He dropped his phone on the kitchen bench, put away his wallet and keys, then glanced towards the pool. It was still partly in the bach’s shadow; not that that would be a problem for long.

As he watched, a silver tail whipped through the air, shining in the bright sunlight before it disappeared again.

A smile threatened and he did not fight the pull to go outside. He stopped at the edge of the pool, watching Felix race up and down its length with open admiration. They stopped two lengths later, water streaming off them as they pushed through the surface and tossed their head, droplets flying. The mer looked distinctly more feral than they had when Chan had left, their eyes swirling, spine arched like they were ready to launch themself at something, tail churning up the water around them.

‘Is everything alright?’ he asked, dropping into a crouch, forearms braced on his thighs. ‘You look excited.’

‘A storm comes,’ they said, exhilaration clear in their voice.

Chan’s gaze flicked back up to the incoming cloudbank, down again. ‘So it seems,’ he agreed. ‘You like storms, then?’

‘_Yes_,’ the mer replied emphatically. ‘Have you swum in a storm? There is no greater thrill.’

‘Even though the last one got you in this situation?’ Chan asked, a touch sceptical as he gestured towards their bound abdomen.

They tossed their head in what he’d figured out was the mer equivalent of a shrug. ‘My own fault, I swam too close to shore.’

‘Will your friend be alright? They won’t stay too close, will they?’

Felix cocked their head, watching Chan as a predator watches prey. ‘They are cleverer than I; they are unlikely to be beached.’

‘That’s good. I’m not sure I could handle two mer people,’ he joked.

But Felix did not seem to pick up on the humour, surging forward so they were right in front of Chan, clawed hands propping them up on the tiles. Fortunately, he’d gotten used to these surprise lunges enough that he barely flinched.

‘You do not want my companion to be injured,’ the mer rumbled, eyes still swirling just enough to be threatening. ‘You do not want to have them here too.’

Despite the overt lack of a question mark at the end of either statement, Chan nodded. ‘That is correct. I want your friend to stay safe.’

Felix hissed faintly but it was not an aggressive sound. ‘Such a strange human, Chan.’

His lips quirked up. ‘I think the word you’re looking for is “decent”.’

The mer huffed and the danger was gone. They pushed away from the edge of the pool, floating further out.

Before they could disappear under the water, Chan asked, ‘How’s your stomach? Is it healing?’

‘Yes,’ they called in answer, swimming in a wide circle on their back. ‘It will not take many more days before I am strong enough to return to the sea.’

That was good. Wasn’t it.

_Yes, it damn well is,_ Chan told himself sternly. He blamed Changbin for putting odd thoughts in his head.

‘And do not think that I have forgotten my debt,’ Felix continued.

Chan’s head jerked up. ‘Felix, I don’t want anything from you! Can’t you accept this as just, I don’t know, kindness? I didn’t rescue you to demand favours.’

The mer kept swimming in circles. ‘What is the phrase humans use? Ah – too bad. It is too bad, Chan, for the ocean must have balance.’

‘What does that even _mean?’_ he groaned, sitting cross-legged. ‘Don’t you ever give gifts with no expectation of return?’

‘We do, but that does not apply here.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you saved my life,’ they growled. ‘Such a thing cannot go unreturned.’

‘Well, seeing as I’m not intending to get in a life or death situation any time soon, you’re a bit out of luck with that one.’

Felix paused, meeting Chan eyes. ‘There are other ways to repay a life debt.’

His brows rose. ‘Really? How?’

‘You will find out, one way or another,’ was all they said, resuming their circles.

Chan gritted his teeth in frustration but did not push for a proper answer.

A sudden sharp wind tousled his hair and he looked up to see that the clouds had almost reached them. The horizon was no longer clear, instead a grey blur, whitecaps emerging from it. He hoped all the beach-goers had left by now; the storm would be on them in a couple of minutes at most.

He got to his feet. ‘You’ll be alright in the storm, then?’

Felix was playing through the water like an excited puppy and they cried an affirmative, adding, ‘I might sing – do not come out if I do!’

His skin prickled at the thought of hearing the mer’s haunting call again, but they were right of course.

About to go inside, Chan suddenly stopped, then trotted to one end of the pool.

‘I need to take the parasol and towels,’ he explained to the curious mer as he tugged the towels to him. ‘The storm will carry them away otherwise.’

Felix helped him pull the sun umbrella out of the water and he quickly disassembled it, tucking it under his arms and hopping up onto the veranda. Blustery gusts of cool wind followed him indoors until he shoved the door shut. Barely a minute later, the first raindrops flecked the glass.

The storm was not as violent as last week’s one, which was good because Chan didn’t really want to lose power again. He made sure all the doors and windows were shut tight, then sat in the front room, keeping half an eye on the view through the glass door as he scribbled down scraps of melodies and fragments of lyrics in his notebook. The sounds of the wild weather, as ever, fuelled his creativity like nothing else.

The storm may not have been as aggressive as it could have – but the rain was torrential. It slammed into the beach house when the wind carried it and created puddles on the deck when the wind let up and it could pour, pour, pour down, uninterrupted.

That, more than anything else, was why Chan didn’t get much written over the course of the afternoon. By late afternoon, the thunder had quieted and the winds gentled, leaving only relentless rain. It wrapped around the bach like a heavy grey curtain, impenetrable and sectioning the clifftop from the rest of the world.

It had been raining when Chan realised his parents were late home.

It had been raining when he called their cells, sent them dozens of texts, each more panicked than the last.

It had been raining when a number Chan didn’t recognise had rung his phone and icy dread rooted itself in his belly, vicious and unforgiving. Endless, as the rain had seemed.

Now, he sat on the floor and leaned against the wall by the sliding door, an arm draped over his bent knee. His breathing did not stutter as he watched the rain but numbness stole over him and when his eyes blurred, he couldn’t tell if it was because he hadn’t blinked in a while or... something else.

This was the point where Changbin would interfere. He'd crouch in front of Chan, face serious and eyes sharp, and he would draw his hyung back into the world of the living. Changbin had told Chan some years ago to call him if he ever felt like that again while nobody else was with him. Sometimes, Chan did call his best friend. Sometimes, he did not.

His phone lay forgotten on the kitchen counter and today, Chan did not so much as look in its direction.

At last the rain began to lessen and soon he could see the pool. With no bright source of light like the sun or moon, the mer was almost impossible to pick out amongst the wash of grey but the rain gentled further and then there they were.

Either Felix was ignoring their injury or they’d healed a lot more than Chan had realised – those could be the only explanations for the acrobatics going on in the pool right now. The mer launched themself through the air, twisting and arching and creating a tremendous splash every time they came down. It was a magnificent sight to behold and Chan couldn’t imagine how much _more_ it would be if they were in the ocean, surrounded by crashing waves. He was only a tailless observer with no way of performing such feats, but a knot formed in his chest, a yearning to join the mer.

With no reason to deny himself this, he got to his feet and opened the door. Breathless laughter escaped him as the light wind brought the edge of the grey curtain inside, chilling his skin. So as not to soak the house, Chan stepped outside and slid the door closed again. He was drenched in seconds, hair plastered to his head, clothes sticking to his body like a second skin.

And for all the terrible memories such rain dredged up in him, exhilaration was Chan’s strongest emotion now. The numbness melted away like frost before a fire and his pulse pounded. He stood in the rain and he felt _alive._

A clear, haunting sound rose through the rain, entwining with it instead of overwhelming it. Chan didn’t have to look to the mer to know that this was their song, but he did anyway. This was not to say they’d stopped their awe-inspiring stunts to sing – oh no, they were somehow managing to hold a perfectly balanced tune while continuing to play.

He felt the lure of the mer’s cry, felt the familiar tug behind his sternum to close his eyes and lose himself in the piercing joy of the song. Fortunately, he’d learned something since last night and he forced himself to focus on the feel of the wood beneath his feet, the rain on his skin, the scent of the sea in his nose.

Felix’s song, however, began to grow in strength, until Chan had to go indoors or give in to its pull. He did the former reluctantly, but hesitated at shutting the door. Rain blew inside and his hand clenched on the handle, indecision rife within him. His gaze fell to the notebook sitting on the floor just out of reach of the rain and an idea took hold.

Completely disregarding the water covering the floor, he sat once more, taking up his notebook and tilting it so that the rain could not ruin his notes. Pen in hand, he sketched a quick stave, picking out the melody he had for his song so far.

Then he listened.

The rise and fall of the mer’s song washed over him but he did not let it inside him, he did not bathe himself in it. Instead, he let it guide his hand over the paper, adding a semibreve here, a string of quavers there. This damn piece of music, which had been giving him so much trouble these last weeks, was suddenly flowing from his hand with ease, Felix’s song giving it life.

Chan was not sure how long he set there scribbling down notes but at last he had a complete draft before him. The rain had not stopped, nor had the mer’s singing, but when he got to his feet and headed for his studio (leaving the veranda door open), the moment did not break. He was buzzing with a need to _create_ and that carried him to his computer, inputting his new music and hearing it out loud.

The vestiges of the storm had long-since moved on by the time he came out of his creative frenzy.

When he did, he rubbed his eyes and stretched. He wasn’t entirely sure what time it was now but the stiffness in his body assured him he’d been here for some hours. Not that he was complaining – he now had a completed piece of music. Well, it would probably need some tweaking here and there, whether by him or the other producer across the country to whom he’d send the track, but for the most part it was _done_.

Chan absolutely could not have done it without Felix’s song guiding him so, with that thought in mind, he made his way out to the front room again. He winced at the sight of all the water on the floor but couldn’t bring himself to care too much as he stepped out onto the deck.

The mid-afternoon sun was strong and the air was so humid, he could feel sweat prickling up his back immediately. Looking down at the pool, he saw that the water was reasonably smooth, indicating that the mer was likely keeping still. This late in the day, there would be a thin line of shadow along the far side of the pool for them to take shelter in; hopefully the clouds had not melted away too long ago.

‘Felix?’ he called, hopping down onto the tiles.

He saw them coiled in the shade and his conscience twanged. Quickly, he darted back inside and retrieved the parasol and towels. They rose to the surface when he opened the sun umbrella and started lowering it into the water.

‘How are you doing?’ he asked. ‘I hope you weren’t stuck in the sun for too long...’

They hummed noncommittally, diving down to fit the end of the parasol in its stand. Conscience twinging again, Chan set about clipping the towels to the parasol’s faded brim.

‘Sorry it took me so long to come back out,’ he apologised as soon as the mer resurfaced. ‘I was making music in the studio and I got completely caught up in it.’

Tossing their head in a subdued shrug, Felix rumbled, ‘It is no matter. The clouds have not long parted.’

Taking their word for it, he said, ‘Alright then. Um, there’s something else I want to say too.’

They blinked at him, slow and curious.

‘Thank you for singing.’

They inhaled sharply, rearing back to look at him with wide eyes. ‘You listened?’

‘I did,’ Chan admitted, ‘but don’t worry, I made sure not to get too caught up in it. I wrote music while you sang, you see. This piece I’m working on was giving me a lot of trouble but...’ He recalled the wondrous feeling of all the right notes simply _flowing_ out of him. ‘I would never have thought of that tune on my own. So – thank you, Felix.’

The mer seemed a bit puzzled but amenable enough. ‘I... am glad my song helped you.’

Chan nodded and stood. ‘I’ll let you enjoy your shade, then.’

Felix regarded him for a moment, before making an odd trilling sound and tipped backwards into the water, the flick of their tail splashing a little water his way. Startled, Chan smiled and returned indoors.

It was later that evening that he remembered his promise to Changbin that he would ask the mer about sharing their secret with his best friend. As Chan had yet to come across Felix while they slept, he stepped outside after he finished his dinner. The sky had turned to a beautiful wash of mauve on the horizon, dark blue overhead, but his attention was directed at the pool. He noted the churning water and realised Felix must be swimming fast and strong beneath the surface.

In no great hurry, Chan simply watched them, the red tiles warm beneath his bare feet, and was once again impressed by their skill and agility. They swam for a few more minutes and finished with a lap of the pool before coming up to float on their back, basking in the mild evening air.

‘Having fun?’ he asked, hands in his pockets.

‘Yes. You should come and swim too.’

‘Thanks for the offer, but not right now. I have a question for you.’

‘Of course you do,’ they replied and he could not tell if they were amused, exasperated, annoyed, or none of the above. ‘You are human.’

When they said nothing more, Chan decided that meant he was allowed to ask his question.

‘There is a human whom I trust a great deal,’ he began cautiously. ‘He’s my friend and, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to tell him about you.’

He opened his mouth to continue but Felix had already rolled over and was arrowing through the water towards him. They burst up out of it like a cannon ball, sloshing water everywhere and prompting Chan to hastily back up a couple of steps. Their claws crunched into the tiles he stood on as they lifted themself as high as they could.

Chan gulped as swirling eyes fixed on him, their upper lip curling back.

‘You wish to speak of me to another human?’ Felix snarled. ‘A human I neither know nor trust? Absolutely not! If you tell one, what is to stop them telling more? Humans are miserable secret-keepers!’

More than a little offended, Chan reined in the instinctively snappish response that sprang to his mouth and reminded himself that Felix had spent their whole life being wary of humans. Perhaps he should not have made such a suggestion so soon, but he’d hoped they trusted him enough to also trust his judgement.

Apparently not.

Lifting his hands in a show of surrender, he quickly said, ‘Okay, okay, never mind. I won’t tell him.’

There was a quiet growl still rumbling in the mer’s chest as they stared at him, so Chan added, ‘I promise. I won’t tell him unless you give me permission, alright?’

Felix snapped their teeth at him in reply and twisted, turning as they dived back into the water and coiled around the base of the parasol.

Chan huffed in frustration and left them to it.

Any thoughts he had about sulking and ignoring the mer, however, were dashed a few hours later.

He knew better than to ever try and sleep on this night of all nights but he’d let his guard down. Somewhere around half eleven, while he sat on the couch and watched reruns of an old drama, he slipped into a waking dream. It didn’t last long, but then it didn’t have to.

When he forcefully jerked awake, his cheeks were wet with tears.

His throat tightened as he stared at salt water glittering on the tips of his fingers. He hadn’t consciously cried for his parents for several years at least but unconsciously... Well, this wasn’t the first time this’d happened.

Chan glanced at the TV’s clock and saw that it was quarter past midnight. Fifteen minutes into the seventh anniversary. His breath hitched and he immediately switched the set off, dropping the remote onto the couch as he strode over to the veranda door. He didn’t open it, he just stood there and stared out into the night.

The sky was clear and the half moon bright, casting a silver tint over the sea and the deck and the pool. The only light on in the room was a lamp by the sofa, which provided a soft glow that did not disturb the outside scene. As he watched, Chan saw a glimmering tail flick out of the water and back down.

He wondered if they’d let him come and swim now. He didn’t want to sit around moping for the next six hours and alongside running, swimming was his favourite way to get out of his head. There was nothing for it but to ask, of course, so he went and changed into a pair of board shorts, tossing a towel over his shoulder. If they denied him entry, well, he’d give the beach a shot.

Scrubbing his cheeks with the back of his hand to make sure the last of the tear tracks were gone, Chan went down to the very edge of the pool. When Felix did not emerge, he dipped a foot in, swirling it through the cold water. That didn’t bring them out so he tossed the towel behind him and sat, lower legs swishing back and forth in the pool.

While he was trying to decide if he dared jump in anyway, the mer suddenly popped up on the far side and asked, ‘Are you coming in then?’

‘Oh.’ Chan scrambled to reorganise his thoughts. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d let me.’

Felix hissed, less like a terrifying ocean predator and more like a disgruntled cat. ‘Of course you –’

They cut off and Chan saw them rise up a little further. Before he could ask what was wrong, they were moving over to him, practically shimmering in the moonlight. The mer stopped right in front of his knees and, in an impressive display of abdominal strength for someone still injured, leaned in to... sniff his face?

‘What are you doing?’ Chan asked, bemused. Odd though it was, he did not move away.

‘Fresh salt water,’ Felix murmured, their surprisingly not-too-terrible breath washing over his skin. ‘I smell it on you.’

He inhaled sharply, spine going rigid. Watching him closely, the mer backed off a bit.

‘Why is this smell only on your face?’ they asked curiously, head cocked to one side.

Chan fought the urge to lick his lips. He could tell them to leave it and push the topic away or –

‘I had a dream that... made me upset,’ he forced himself to say. ‘It made me cry.’

Felix blinked. ‘What is that?’

‘You mean – crying? What does it mean to cry?’

The mer nodded.

‘Uh, well, it usually happens when someone is really sad or in a lot of pain. Sometimes people cry when they’re happy, though. We cry tears from our eyes,’ he said, miming the trail of one down his face. ‘They’re like rain drops, only salty.’

‘Like the sea?’ Felix sounded nothing short of astonished.

Chan smiled faintly. ‘Yeah, like the sea.’

The air of wonder about them disappeared a moment later. ‘Why did your dream upset you, Chan? Your eyes are clouded again.’

He exhaled, long and slow.

‘Today is a very important day for me,’ he said quietly. ‘Seven years ago, my mother and father were killed.’

Unadulterated shock blossomed on Felix’s face.

‘I don’t know how parenting works for mer people,’ Chan continued, ‘but human parents raise their children for a long time. I –’ he cleared his throat of the sticky emotion that clogged it – ‘I loved my mother and father very, very much. I still do and it – it still makes me very sad to think about them.’

For once, the mer seemed to be at a loss for words. At last they asked softly, ‘If they were killed then – were you –’

Chan shook his head. ‘I wasn’t with them. It was an accident, what happened; a really stupid one, but an accident nonetheless.’

‘And you still grieve,’ Felix whispered, husky and gentle. ‘This accident hurts you in here.’ They brushed their fingertips over his left pectoral, over his heart.

Swallowing thickly, he nodded.

‘Is that why you were upset the other day? When you said that you are broken inside?’

His voice now rough as sandpaper, Chan ducked his head and mumbled, ‘Yeah.’

‘Ah, I did not mean to add to your sadness,’ they fretted. Before he could reassure them, they added, ‘Shall I tell you about the pups and parents of my kind to make you less sad?’

Lifting his head in surprise at the sudden offer, Chan felt the knot in his chest loosen just a fraction. ‘That would be nice. I’d – I’d like that.’

So Felix hauled themself out of the water to sit next to Chan, eliciting a startled squeak from him. They looked at him oddly, like this was completely normal for them, and promptly started talking about how mer people were born as part of a clutch of usually six eggs. Then they went on to explain that all mer had the ability to both give birth and impregnate and that pups only stayed with their parents for a few years, until they were big enough to hunt and chase and survive on their own.

It was all immensely fascinating to Chan and he found himself offering comparisons to human methods of raising their young. Felix was just as interested in his stories, although they were quite convinced that mer methods were superior.

They sat and talked for hours, neither of them noticing how much time had passed until Chan realised the moon had set but he could still see, dawn creeping across the sky behind the bach.

Now exhausted to the point that he thought he might be able to squeeze in a couple of hours uninterrupted sleep, Chan turned to the mer and said sincerely, ‘Thank you, Felix.’

What could have been a hellishly interminable night with no source of distraction had actually become something he could count as a good memory.

Felix’s eyes glowed dimly in the early morning gloom, their now-dry hair almost as white as snow. ‘You are welcome,’ they replied seriously.

They did not ask what he was grateful for.

As the mer prepared to slide back into the pool, Chan screwed up his courage and brushed his fingers over their hair. They stilled but did not stop him and he repeated the action several times, marvelling at how sleek and soft the strands felt.

Withdrawing his hand, he commented, ‘You have lovely hair.’

Felix blinked at him. ‘So do you.’

A smile tugged at Chan’s lips. ‘I’ll see you in a bit.’

Then they pushed off into the water while he went inside and, to his relief, managed to snatch three hours of dream-free sleep before his alarm went off.

**

Chan’s heart was lighter than it had been in days, his cheeks aching slightly from all the laughter. He and Changbin hadn’t had a games night in far too long and now, after five or so hours of junk food and video games on the squishy comfort of Changbin’s couch, he was driving back to the bach. He’d considered staying the night at his friend’s apartment, given that it was pushing eleven, but couldn’t quite bring himself to leave Felix by themself for so long. They were doing much better now, no longer needing to keep their belly wrapped in a bandage, but still. Besides, he _had_ told them he’d be coming back tonight.

The Audi crawled up the steep driveway to the clifftop with ease, headlights illuminating –

The outside lights were on.

Adrenaline-fuelled alarm slammed into Chan with the force of an out-of-control freight train, making his hands shake on the wheel and his next breath come out on a feeble wheeze.

_Don’t overreact, calm down; maybe someone’s dog or cat got lost and made its way up here,_ he tried to soothe himself as he accelerated up the final slope.

It didn’t work, of course. No-one lived anywhere near him and the biggest wild animals around here were gulls, which wouldn’t be enough to trip the lights unless they flew right under the damn sensor. That meant someone had been here – or was _still_ here.

Braking sharply in front of the beach house, Chan had parked, turned off the engine, and scrambled out of the car in two seconds. He slammed the door shut and ran around the bach just as he heard an immense splash and at least two distinctly human squawks.

Skidding to a stop by the gate, he blinked in shock at the scene before him. There were no automatic deck lights but the combined light from the ones at the front and three phone torches was enough to reveal the parasol, crumpled and several feet from the pool, and two people racing about in fright and yelling. The light of their phones danced madly, the third one lying forgotten on the tiles, and he realised there was someone in the water – someone _other_ than Felix.

‘HEY!’ Chan shouted, finally getting the gate unlocked and open.

There were more screams from the trespassers, the pair having not noticed him until now. This was echoed by garbled shrieking from the pool as a third person suddenly appeared, _thrown_ from the violently churning water onto dry land.

Chan snatched up the fallen phone, shining the light at what looked like a trio of boys in their early teens, their expressions contorted with fear. The two who were standing hurried to drag their bedraggled friend to his feet, their attention split between Chan and the pool. He inhaled deeply to yell at them again – _get away, get away, get away_ – but was interrupted by a deafening roar.

For a wild second, he thought there was an enraged bear hiding in the shadows.

But no – all three torches redirected to the pool and there in the centre was the mer, rearing up out of the water, a terrifying creature of sleek muscle, sharp claws, and bared teeth. An endless growl rumbled out of their chest and their eyes shone, swirling as they had not since Chan first found them.

Suddenly he was more concerned for the kids than for Felix.

‘Get out of here!’ Chan shouted, sprinting towards them.

The only exit was through the gate, which was behind him, and the idiot teens ran from him, clearly intending to go around the whole pool to avoid being caught. But as their path took them further from him, it brought them closer to Felix and the mer was not backing down.

Seeing no other choice, Chan was forced to give chase but as the three interlopers came level with the mer, Felix’s snarl abruptly spiked in volume and they lunged across the water, an arrow loosed from a taut bow. More screeching as the kids scampered away from the pool, stumbling up onto the veranda. Felix crashed into the lip of the pool, tail in the water, torso draped over the tiles.

Everyone froze for a split second, waiting to see what the mer would do next.

Then they dug their claws into the tiles with a crunching sound and hauled themself out of the water.

Squealing in panic, the trio scrambled over the deck and made for the bach, despite it being locked. Chan dived in front of the homicidal mer, who’d already almost made it to the edge of the veranda with a speed he still found surprising.

‘Felix,’ he said, breathless with adrenaline, ‘Felix, leave them.’

The full fury of the mer’s gaze smacked into his own and he gasped, his will crumbling like rice paper as those blazing blue eyes reached deep into his head and _crushed_. Chan fell to his knees, the pain sharp but not enough to free him, and the phone dropped from his lax grip. He tried to speak but could not, only a faint whimper escaping him.

_Felix, please._

The vice grip on his head suddenly loosened, the abrupt absence of stabbing agony nearly making him pass out. But Felix’s gaze yet held him firmly and he could not look away. There was a sensation of something so _other_ he could only describe it as the feeling of someone walking over his grave, and it swept through his mind, the _otherness_ all-encompassing.

_Please._

The mer blinked, their terrible eyes focusing behind him, and Chan’s head was his own again.

He couldn’t even turn to see what was happening, his skull aching like someone had taken a hammer to it. He fell forward onto his elbows and cradled his head in his hands, groaning as what promised to be an excruciating headache settled in. He was vaguely aware of noise and movement around him, Felix’s voice like thunder. In far too much pain to consider even opening his eyes, he allowed himself to simply collapse onto his side, curling in on himself and trying to keep breathing steadily.

At some point, the growling overhead morphed into a gentler sound, almost like crooning, and Chan felt something firm and cool wrap around him where he lay. It pressed against his back but, to his relief, did not touch his head. Eventually it dawned on him that the mer must have encircled him with their tail.

The croon kept up and after a while, the pounding in Chan’s skull lessened enough that he could open his eyes, gritty with exhaustion and unshed tears, and carefully push up into a seated position. He wavered immediately but before he could even begin to topple, the mer had a strong arm clamped around his waist, the action drawing him close to their chest.

Chan took a moment to get used to sitting up again, then nudged Felix’s arm away. They let him go at once, leaning back to give him some space, though their tail did not move. He looked up, only the fallen phone providing any light, and saw no sign of the teenagers.

‘What happened?’ he asked, throat a little rough, noting the wide open gate.

‘They left,’ Felix replied quietly, barely a hint of thunder to their voice now. ‘They will not speak of this. I have ensured it.’

‘But they had phones, they might’ve taken photos or – or videos.’ God, he didn’t even want to consider livestreaming.

‘I _said_,’ the mer interrupted firmly, ‘they will _not_ speak of it.’

A tremor skittered over Chan’s skin and he flinched, head throbbing in remembered pain.

‘Did you –’

‘I did not hurt the younglings.’ _Not like I hurt you_ went unsaid, the words lying heavy in the air between them. ‘They were frightened enough that I only needed to give them a command. They ran out the gate after that.’

While Chan lay helpless on the ground with a feral mer for company.

Swallowing thickly, he got to his feet without looking at Felix and walked carefully to the gate, closing and locking it.

‘Are you hurt?’ he asked without turning back, staring blankly through the thin bars.

There was a slight pause, then: ‘I will be fine. They only... scared me. I thought it was you returning, but they came up the stairs from the beach. It is well you came back when you did.’ A soft susurration as they slid across the tiles. ‘The need to remove any threats would not have taken much longer to overwhelm my fear of them.’

A quiet splash as the mer slipped into the pool. Chan made himself release the bars he held before he strained a tendon with how tightly he clenched them. He turned at last and saw Felix approaching him, the water lapping at their chest, their eyes –

He wrenched his head to the side, forcefully shifting his gaze.

‘I’m sorry I left you alone for so long,’ he croaked, nails digging into his palms. ‘No-one’s ever tried anything like this before. I’ll talk to –’

‘Chan.’ A hushed interruption. ‘I am sorry for causing you pain. I apologise for taking my fear and anger out on you. I should have stopped when you told me to.’

‘Yes, you should have,’ Chan agreed before he could bite his tongue. Taking a calming breath, he continued, ‘I understand that you were scared and I don’t blame you for that.’ Weariness settled in his bones. ‘But that – that really hurt, Felix.’

Call him an idiot for expecting anything the mer to behave any different when they were in danger and panicking, but the hurt wasn’t just physical.

The faint click of claws against tiles. ‘I am sorry,’ they repeated, their tone mournful. ‘I am so sorry, Chan.’

Under cover of the heavy shadows cast by the thin light of the phone, he glanced over at them again and could make out their arm, half-heartedly reaching for him on the ground. The glow of their eyes was visible even without looking directly at their face, though he could not tell if they still swirled.

They had both been hurt tonight but for all that Felix’s had been the worse shock, Chan’s was arguably the more painful injury. Despite knowing that the mer’s response to him had been an instinctive one borne of visceral fear, well, it felt... personal. Did they trust him so little?

‘I know,’ he murmured. ‘I know.’

‘Will you not look at me again?’ Felix asked sadly. ‘Have I broken your trust so very badly?’

His chest felt tight and not because he was having trouble breathing.

‘You tore open my head like it was nothing,’ he said at last.

‘It is how we defend ourselves from bigger predators,’ the mer replied. ‘Humans are so dangerous to us... It is instinct to use our strongest weapons against them.’

‘And me,’ Chan added softly.

‘Instinct had me very tight in its teeth when you stepped in front of me,’ Felix acquiesced, ‘but then I heard you and I could think enough to remember that you are one of the decent humans.’

The words were an echo of what Chan had said not long after he met the mer, when he was trying to convince them that not all humans were awful. But –

‘You heard me?’ he asked, brows furrowing. ‘I didn’t speak.’ He hadn’t been _able_ to.

Felix went very still and he forgot to be wary for a moment, glancing up at their gleaming eyes.

‘Do you remember,’ the mer said slowly, ‘when I told you that humankind is advanced in some ways and so behind in others?’

Curiosity piqued, Chan nodded. ‘Yes.’ It had been right before they told him their name.

Felix smacked the water lightly with a hand, a frustrated action. ‘The answer to that is the answer to your question. Now... now you have earned it, if you wish to listen.’

He was startled. It was the middle of the night, they were both upset after the incident, and now Felix wanted to share a secret? Walking over to the fallen phone and scooping it up, he went to reply to the mer but was struck by an unpleasant thought.

‘Are you pitying me?’ The question was a serious one. ‘Are you just telling me these things because you feel bad?’

If that was the reason, Chan would tell them to keep their secrets. He only wanted to hear them if and when Felix trusted him enough to reveal them.

The mer made an indignant sound, slapping the water with more force. ‘No! To both of those, no!’

Chan looked at them for a minute, tearing his gaze away when the magnetic danger of their shining eyes made him shiver. He approached the pool, aiming the torch downwards, and sat a couple of feet from the edge, setting the phone next to him. Just far enough that Felix would have to get halfway out to reach him. His head was aching but the pain wasn’t anywhere close to unbearable and, quite frankly, Chan had gotten used to it over the past couple of weeks what with all the nightmares and near-choking experiences.

So, putting all thoughts of bed out of his mind, Chan braced his braced his forearms on his crossed legs and said, ‘Okay. Tell me, then.’

Felix blinked at him, slow and purposeful, and he was sharply reminded of how ethereal they looked. The dim light heightened the effect, glinting in the droplets hanging from their silver hair and crawling over their bare skin.

_What the fuck? Stop eyeing up the mer person, you idiot._

Fortunately, Felix had just started talking.

‘We may keep our entire species hidden from humans,’ they began, ‘but this is our secret of secrets. We would give every one of ourselves up before letting this pass into the hands of your kind.’

The implications of trust could not have been clearer.

‘Talking like this is not very effective underwater,’ the mer said. ‘We can talk like the dolphins and whales, like this –’ they broke into a series of clicks and high-pitched whistles – ‘but we have another way.’

Their nostrils flared and their ear-fins flicked forward, their nerves showing plainly. Chan waited patiently.

‘We speak inside each other’s heads. We speak with our minds.’

He stared. Blinked. Blinked again. ‘What?’

‘It takes immense effort to break into the mind of someone without permission,’ Felix continued as though he had said nothing, ‘so what I – what I did to you does not happen often. But you are human; you have no idea how to protect your mind because you do not know there is anything to be protected at all.’

So there really was something to that stare of theirs, then. Not that he hadn’t known that, but this was a bit beyond what Chan had imagined. A hypnotising stare could be passed off as a predator’s particularly neat weapon. Telepathic communication though? No.

‘You –’ His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. ‘You can read minds?’

Felix tilted their head, humming ponderously. ‘I can hear what is said, I can see what is shown, and I can feel what is felt.’

If they’d been in his head while they were attacking him –

The mer’s expression became solemn, the line of their jaw sharpening. ‘As I said. I heard you.’

Quiet fell between them as Chan stared into the middle distance and tried to wrap his head around this new bit of information. Eventually, he gave up – if mer people could exist, surely so could _mind-reading_ mer people.

‘Will you look at me now?’ Felix asked quietly, perhaps even pleadingly.

‘Will you invade my head again?’ he shot back, regretting the words even as they left his mouth.

And Felix – whimpered. It was an awful little sound, their ear-fins pressing back against their head, their whole body recoiling, and Chan’s guilt quadrupled on the spot.

‘Fuck,’ he swore, ‘I didn’t –’

But the mer had already dipped under the water, leaving nary a ripple. Chan scooted forward, rolling onto his hands and knees as he peered down into the pool but it was much too dark for him to make anything out.

Groaning, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, feeling the headache flare up in response. He almost gave up, almost went inside and crashed on his bed for a much-needed sleep, but Jesus Christ tonight was meant to be a _good_ one. It had _been_ a good one right up until a bunch of idiots came along and ruined it and he was going to have to be intimidating and serious tomorrow when he made some specific calls and _damn it all to hell_ but –

But there was no way he was going to be able to sleep if Felix spent the rest of the night moping in a corner of the pool. The very idea made his chest squeeze uncomfortably tight.

So, with a mumbled _fuck you_ to the universe, Chan kicked off his shoes and pulled off his t-shirt and jumped straight in the water.

As far as ideas went, this was probably a crap one but he was a bit past caring now.

Water closed over his head, cold and dark, and Chan made sure to keep a hand on the wall. It would be far too easy to get turned around in here, the murky depths tricking him into forgetting which way was up, and then drowning would be a dangerously real possibility. Pushing himself deeper, he looked this way and that but could not see the mer. Heck, he could barely see an arm’s length away. The pool lights beckoned for a moment but he dismissed the thought, wanting Felix to trust –

Ah.

That was the crux of it.

_Have I broken your trust so very badly?_

They’d shown him quite clearly that they still trusted him but they didn’t know if the feeling was reciprocated. The part of him wary to look in their eyes again wasn’t entirely sure either, but the rest of him was pretty sure he did.

A really dumb idea came to mind just then. Like, _really_ dumb. His survival instincts screeched at him, horrified that he was even considering it.

But Chan recalled the crooning voice he’d heard, the strong tail that’d securely coiled around him.

_Trust, Bang, trust._

Holding firmly onto that thought, he pushed away from the wall towards the centre of the pool and sculled downwards. The two metres felt a lot deeper when he couldn’t see much but soon enough his tailbone bumped into the concrete ground and he exhaled, a stream of bubbles floating up to the surface.

Then he waited.

And waited.

(His shoulder muscles twinged as he continued sculling to keep himself down.)

And waited.

(He gritted his teeth against the urge to inhale.)

And waited.

(His chest burned, demanding oxygen.)

And w–

A firm grip on his waist and then he was dragged up into the air so quickly that he nearly swallowed a mouthful of water on accident. Gulping down oxygen as he surfaced, Chan was very aware of the arm still wrapped tightly around him.

‘Of all the ridiculous, stupid things to do,’ Felix growled furiously by Chan’s ear, hauling him halfway out of the pool and onto the tiles in an astonishing display of strength. ‘I know humans have little care for their lives but surely you cannot be _that_ idiotic! Do you have a _death wish?’_

Chan couldn’t help himself – he laughed. That only served to further enrage the mer, who still hadn’t released him, despite him being adequately propped up by the side of the pool.

Before they got mad enough to ditch him, he managed to pull himself together enough to splutter, ‘Felix, don’t you get it? I trust you.’

Swallowing the last of his chuckles, he turned away from the wall, feeling their claws graze his ribs as they readjusted their hold on him. He deliberately met their wide-eyed gaze, bracing a forearm on their shoulder and strangling the instinctive urge to kick out when their tail brushed his legs.

‘I knew you’d come get me before I drowned,’ he said, smiling faintly.

‘Oh,’ they replied in a very small voice.

Chan’s smile took a turn for the remorseful. ‘I’m sorry about what I said. That wasn’t fair of me. I promise I didn’t mean it, okay?’

They blinked at him, bright blue eyes luminous. ‘Okay,’ the echoed, a little hesitant. ‘No more stupid things like that though, yes? I do not want you to drown, Chan.’

He grinned, lightly squeezing their nape before letting his hand drop away. ‘Sure thing. I don’t want to drown either.’

With that, Felix tightened their grip on him and hefted him entirely out of the water, leaving him slightly wide-eyed.

‘The water is not warm enough for you,’ they said decisively, ‘and it is past the time for humans to sleep. Go to bed.’

Bursting into renewed laughter, Chan sat up. Goosebumps prickled over his bare skin, the night air cool. For all that he was drenched and about to get salt all through his bed, he felt much lighter now.

‘Alright. Good night, Felix.’

‘...Good night, Chan.’

The first thing the mer said to him the following morning was, ‘You may bring your friend, if you want.’

Briefly flabbergasted, Chan was on the phone to Changbin less than five minutes later, telling him to meet Chan at the entrance to the fish markets in two hours. Confused, Changbin nonetheless agreed and Chan made sure to sincerely thank Felix before he dived back into the house – there were a number of calls he had to make regarding last night’s... incident.

He knew that none of the local kids would have done anything this stupid – most of them had at least half a clue who the bach on the cliff top belonged to. That meant the trio had to be out-of-towners, probably tourists. The abandoned phone had helpfully offered up its owner’s name – one Zhong Chenle – which gave him something to go on as he rang around all the motels and for-hire bungalows.

Chan really wasn’t that fond of pulling out his intimidating and vaguely threatening voice nor throwing around heavy-handed hints about his father’s tech company (run almost entirely by his uncle’s family) but they sure helped get things done.

Sure enough, it only took him an hour and a half to track the right family down (apparently Zhong Chenle was indeed visiting for the summer, accompanied by his friends Lee Donghyuck and Park Jisung). He was quick to reassure them he had no interest in pressing charges, provided the incident was not repeated.

The unpleasantness of that particular task complete, Chan took a second to, as he thought of it, resettle his skin, letting the brutally efficient, ruthless façade go. Then he slipped on a pair of well-worn canvas shoes, grabbed his keys and wallet, and hurried out to the car. It was still parked haphazardly in front of the bach, unlocked, where he’d left it last night.

His nerves jittered and he couldn’t stop tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel as he drove down to the markets. Changbin was going to meet Felix. Finally, he’d have an outside perspective on this, a reassurance that he hadn’t been in a vivid hallucination for the past fortnight.

Chan parked the car in the lot and made his way over to the entrance, bags in hand. Changbin was easy to spot, the short man hovering by the entrance, beanie jammed down over his ears, hands tucked into the pouch of his short-sleeved red hoodie. Chan whistled sharply and his friend’s head jerked up.

‘Sup, hyung,’ Changbin greeted, knocking their shoulders together as he fell in step with the older man. ‘Didn’t know you had such a taste for seafood.’

‘It’s not for me,’ Chan replied, lightly bouncing his fist off the younger’s bicep. ‘Now, come on; we’re in a bit of a hurry.’

They made it around the market in good time, Chan well-familiar which fishermen he was visiting by now. He noted with some amusement Changbin’s growing confusion at the sheer quantity of fish they were picking up, but he made no comment and Chan was happy enough to let him chew on it.

When they got back to the car, however, Changbin had barely clicked himself in before he was saying, ‘Hyung, you and I couldn’t get through that much fish even if that was all we had to eat for three days.’

Smoothly pulling out onto the road and accelerating away from the dockyard, Chan’s lips quirked up. ‘I won’t argue with that.’

Changbin stared at him in his periphery. ‘So? What gives?’

‘Felix eats a lot,’ he replied, shrugging slightly.

‘That’s a bit more than – Hang on, we’re going back to the bach? Are they okay with that?’

‘Yep.’ Chan flicked on his indicator, slowed, and turned down another street. ‘They gave me permission this morning.’

A pause, then: ‘Does that mean I’m going to find out what their big secret is?’

Chan snorted. ‘I promise it’ll become apparent the second you see them.’

‘You’re being mysterious,’ Changbin grumbled. ‘I hate it when you do that.’

‘Sorry,’ was the unrepentant response. ‘But trust me when I tell you that it’s much better if you see for yourself.’

Changbin sighed. ‘Whatever you say, hyung.’

They arrived at the clifftop a few minutes later, each taking one of the heavy bags filled with fresh seafood. As Chan unlocked the front door, he noted the light layer of cloud spread out across the sky; the air was as warm as ever (_why_ Changbin was wearing a hoodie, he’d never know) but hopefully the reduced sunlight would let Felix come out from their shelter a bit longer without burning.

‘So where’s Felix?’ Changbin asked, kicking off his shoes at the door and following Chan towards the main room.

‘In the pool,’ Chan said honestly. ‘They really like water.’

He almost laughed aloud at the understatement – _yeah, they like water, same as how humans like air._

Walking into the kitchen, he heard Changbin grunted in surprise as he bypassed the fridge, instead heading straight for the veranda.

‘Bring the bag out here,’ Chan said, unlatching the sliding door and looking back over his shoulder at his friend.

The puzzled frown on Changbin’s face only deepened as he approached. ‘Hyung, you know there’s a parasol in your pool, right...?’

Nervous anticipation bubbling away behind his ribs, Chan nodded and opened the door. ‘I do. C’mon, it’ll all be explained in a minute, promise.’

Stepping out onto the deck, Chan bid Changbin wait there a moment, setting down his bag of seafood and going to the edge of the pool. He crouched and saw Felix curled up on the concrete floor under the parasol. They must’ve been waiting for him though, because they were already looking up, and as soon as they saw him, they uncoiled and glided up to the surface. Only their head emerged above water and Chan’s position shielded them from Changbin’s view.

‘Hey there,’ he said lightly, mouth automatically softening into a smile. ‘I’ve got food and Changbin. Are you ready to meet him?’

Felix’s eyes were wide, their ear-fins flicking back and forth uncertainly, but they replied, ‘He is your friend. You trust him.’

Chan inclined his head.

‘Then I am ready.’ The mer huffed. ‘We shall see if he is.’

And that was really all there was to say about that, so Chan straightened up and turned around.

‘Changbin, meet Felix.’

Changbin squinted, obviously trying to see what was so mysterious about the small bit of Felix he could see. ‘Uh, hello –’

Felix rose up in the water, exposing the scales scattered over their pale torso, their bleached hair glinting in the light, and their eyes swirling in a way no human’s could ever match.

Changbin froze. He did not blink as he stared.

And stared some more.

And some more.

Chan wasn’t entirely sure he was still breathing and he saw his friend’s grip on the bag turn white-knuckled.

‘Hello, friend of Chan,’ the mer rumbled, slow and serious.

It took another thirty seconds for Changbin to find his voice. When he did, it was a far cry from his normal one, instead thin and squeaky.

‘Am I – am I dreaming?’ he choked out. ‘Did you drug me, hyung?’

Felix hissed and the finned end of their tail whistled through the air to smack the water. ‘I am no dream and Chan has not tricked you, human. Do not insult him so.’

Letting out an audible squeak of shock, Changbin shot him a wide-eyed look as Chan tried not to let on how delighted he was.

Clearing his throat several times, Changbin licked his lips and managed, ‘Right, sure, yeah. Of course you’re real, of – of course you are. Um.’ His gaze darted to Chan again, panic clear in his expression.

Taking pity on his poor friend, Chan tucked his hands into his pockets and said, ‘Introduce yourself, Binnie. Mer people take names seriously.’

Changbin’s eyes were so wide by now that Chan thought they might fall out and he visibly blanched at the mention of “mer people”.

‘I – I need to sit down,’ he muttered, unsteadily walking over to the edge of the deck and sitting there. Finally relinquishing his hold on the bag of seafood, he scrubbed his hands over his face before refocusing on the mer. ‘Right. Okay. Hello, Felix. I’m Changbin. Nice to, uh, meet you at last?’

Felix squinted. ‘Is this another of those strange things humans say?’

‘I – what?’

‘Like “good morning”,’ the mer clarified.

Still looking utterly lost, Changbin nonetheless nodded. ‘Sure. Humans are generally strange.’

Felix tossed their head, droplets flying from their hair. ‘I am aware of this.’

Chan bit his lip, trying not to snicker at the stilted interaction. But he didn’t want Changbin to actually pass out from shock, so he said, ‘Alright, now that we all know each other –’ he turned to Felix – ‘we’ll leave you to eat for a bit, okay? Changbin and I will be inside. Yell if you get bored.’

The mer huffed, shooting him a look that could only be described as minatory. ‘I might come and find you instead,’ they retorted.

Entirely unable to help himself, Chan burst out laughing. ‘I don’t doubt it at all,’ he snorted, retrieving the seafood from the deck and setting it down by the pool.

Something that might have been the edge of a smile tugged at Felix’s mouth before their attention was diverted by the fresh fish. As they used their claws to shred the old newspapers wrapped around the food, Chan gestured to Changbin for them to head back indoors. Still looking a bit like he’d been hit in the face with a hammer, Changbin did so.

Chan went straight to the fridge and pulled a chilled beer out of the box he only touched when he had friends around. ‘Want a drink?’ he asked, holding the bottle out.

Changbin stared at him. ‘Hyung... Felix isn’t human.’

Brows lifting at that particularly astute response, Chan set the bottle on the counter and grabbed another one for himself.

‘You want a drink,’ he decided, retrieving the bottle opener and popping both caps.

He pressed one of the beers into Changbin’s slightly lax grip, then crossed the room and dropped onto the sofa. The pool was not visible from here, the glass door too far and the windows opposite too high. Changbin blinked twice, seemingly to suddenly realise where he was. After taking a fortifying swig from his drink, he joined Chan on the couch.

Silence reigned for a long minute but for the faint sounds of Felix splashing about in the pool.

‘I see why you couldn’t tell me about, uh, them,’ Changbin said at last, staring down at the bottle in his hand. ‘I would have thought you’d gone completely mad if you had.’

‘Yeah. And, obviously, secrecy is a big deal for them.’

‘I’ll bet. So, you found them after that storm the other week?’

Chan nodded. ‘Wedged between some rocks, with a dislocated elbow, torn fin, and a really nasty gash on their stomach.’ He shivered, unpleasant thoughts creeping through his mind. ‘It’s so lucky I went for a run that morning...’

Changbin grimaced and took another drink. ‘No kidding. How are their injuries doing now? It’s been what, two weeks?’

‘They’ll be fine in a couple of days. They set themself back a bit by pulling too many stunts in the last couple of storms; the wild weather makes them kind of... hyper.’

‘Ah.’

Chan drank a mouthful of beer and they fell quiet again.

‘How are the kittens?’ he eventually asked, turning in time to see Changbin just about jump out of skin, blinking in confusion at him.

‘Kitten?’

‘Yeah, the ones you gave to Minho,’ he said patiently.

Realisation dawned on the younger’s face and he relaxed in his seat. ‘Oh, they’re doing great. They love his place and they love him, which is good, because Minho-hyung’s completely gone for them too.’

Amusement bubbled in Chan’s veins. ‘Minho giving you regular updates, then?’

Changbin’s eyes widened and his ears went red. ‘Shut up,’ he mumbled into his beer. ‘If he wants to send me pictures of the cats every day, I’m not going to stop him. That would be heartless.’

‘Uhuh.’ Chan didn’t even _try_ to keep the knowing tone out of his voice.

‘Shut _up_,’ Changbin repeated, glowering at the older man. ‘We’re uh, we’re going shopping for kitten toys tomorrow; he ordered me to go with him, said he needed a second opinion.’

Chan’s brows swiftly rose and a delighted grin spread across his face. ‘Oh, you don’t say? He’s finally got you to go on a date.’

‘It’s _not_ a date,’ Changbin protested, but he lacked conviction.

‘Sure, sure,’ Chan chuckled. ‘Clearly he thinks this is the only way he can get you to agree. Be nice to him and tell me how it goes.’

Changbin groaned, running his free hand over his face. ‘Why do I ever tell you anything,’ he muttered under his breath. But he sighed and nodded. ‘I’ll let you know.’

Chan clinked their bottles. ‘Good man.’ A thought crossed his mind then and he said, ‘Oh, I finished my latest track. Y’know, the one I told you about the other week?’

Changbin’s eyes brightened. ‘Yeah, you said it was giving you trouble. You got through that alright, then?’

‘Mm, well, Felix may have had something to do with it,’ Chan admitted, ‘but it’s done. The music is, anyway. I might send it in as is and let whichever artist the company gives it to write the lyrics.’

Blinking at him, Changbin repeated slowly, ‘Felix... might have... had something to do with... it?’

‘Yeah, they, uh, they sang. Not for me,’ he hastily added, ‘but during a storm and I heard them and...’ He looked down at his hands, remembering the mer’s piercing, enchanting song. ‘It kick-started my brain in a way I wasn’t expecting.’ Looking up again, he offered, ‘Do you want to have a listen? I’d like your opinion on it.’

‘Sure, of course,’ Changbin immediately agreed, pushing up off the couch.

Chan led his friend to the studio and pulled up the track. He had a sudden flash of doubt – what if the music wasn’t as good as he’d thought? What if it was just _odd?_ He knew how to ignore those kind of nerves, though, and he hit play without faltering.

However, as soon as the track began and the first notes echoed around the small room, Chan calmed. He was so proud of this one and so thankful to Felix for unintentionally helping him. This was unlike any piece he’d created before, and he rather doubted he’d manage anything quite like it again. Not unless the mer agreed to sing for him for the next month.

Of course, that just reminded him that in a couple of days, Felix would no longer be here. They’d be strong enough to return to the ocean and their friend, who was apparently staying the area, waiting for them.

An unpleasant, tight feeling lodged itself at the base of his throat and as the track reached its crescendo, Chan realised he didn’t want to see the last of Felix. He didn’t want to watch them dip beneath the surface of the sea and never re-emerge.

_I don’t want them to go_.

‘Hyung, that’s – that was really good! Like, _really_ good. I love it,’ Changbin gushed, interrupting Chan’s spiralling train of thought.

Clearing his throat and forcefully ejecting the thoughts from his mind, Chan ran a hand through his hair and brought his attention back to the present situation.

‘You do?’ he asked seriously, eying Changbin to make sure he wasn’t getting ahead of himself.

But Changbin nodded earnestly. ‘I do. That harmony? Fucking gorgeous. And what you did during the bridge –’

With that, they were away, their inner musicians springing to the fore and taking over. Changbin was very enthusiastic about the music so Chan showed him exactly what he’d done for all the different parts. Their beers stood, forgotten, in the lounge and at least an hour had gone past before either man thought to check the time.

When his stomach gave a particularly loud grumble, Chan finally glanced at the on-screen clock and promptly swore.

‘Shit, it’s already midday. Binnie, you want takeout?’

Changbin, who hadn’t even looked up from the keyboard and mixer he was trying something out on, nodded absently. ‘Sure, hyung.’

Leaving the other man to it, Chan slipped out of the studio and made his way back to the front room, swiping his phone off the counter. As he called his favourite delivery shop, he heard a loud splash outside and glanced out through the open glass door in time to see Felix’s tail whip through the air and smack down on the surface, creating another large splash.

Finishing the call, he set his phone down again and went out onto the deck. His eyes narrowed immediately; light grey cloud might still cover the sky in an impenetrable blanket, but everything was very... bright. And humid, he realised, his shirt already starting to stick to his back.

‘You look restless,’ he told the mer bluntly, stepping down onto the tiles.

Felix rumbled wordlessly at him, dipping underwater only to come back up a moment later.

‘I am,’ they told him, flicking hair out of their eyes with a sharp head toss. ‘I miss the ocean. I want to swim.’ They snapped their teeth at the sky. ‘_Really_ swim.’

‘Are you ready to go back?’ Chan asked, throat suddenly tight again.

‘Not today,’ the mer answered, floating on their back. ‘Maybe tomorrow.’

Then, with a flick of their tail, they disappeared under the parasol and he was left alone.

_Fuck, pull yourself together,_ he scolded himself. _You knew this was going to happen. You _knew_ they would get better and leave._

Scowling, he turned on his heel and went to distract himself with Changbin’s company until the food arrived.

Changbin stayed till mid-afternoon. He and Chan spent most of that time in the studio, bouncing ideas off each other and tinkering with fragments of tunes on the mixer.

Then Changbin got an urgent call from Minho, ordering him to get down to the café immediately, as Jaemin had managed to slip and fracture his wrist and Jeongyeon was still in Japan. This left only Minho and Yongsun to handle the afternoon rush and, from the sounds of it, they were _not_ handling it very well.

‘I’ll be there in twenty minutes,’ Changbin promised, receiving a confirming nod from Chan when he glanced at him. The moment he hung up, he asked, ‘Do you have a black polo shirt or something, hyung? I can’t go to work in _this._’

Chan considered the faded muscle tee his friend was sporting, the red hoodie lying crumpled on the studio’s small couch, and nodded. ‘It won’t be a perfect fit, but I’m sure I’ve got something,’ he said, sending the computer to sleep and heading for the door.

A bit of rifling through one of his drawers and Chan found something that probably wouldn’t drown the smaller man. Slinging it over his shoulder, he went out to the front room, expecting to find Changbin waiting. He was momentarily confused when he was confronted with an empty room, but movement flickered in the corner of his eye and he saw Changbin crouching by the pool. Startled, he didn’t interrupt, simply watched as Felix rose up out of the water several feet away from Changbin.

Not wanting to accidentally eavesdrop, he quickly turned away and retrieved his things from the counter. As no alarmed shrieking from either party had started outside, he decided it was safe to go out onto the deck.

‘Binnie, I have a shirt for you,’ he called.

Whipping around like a guilty child, Changbin shot him a thumbs up, then turned back to Felix. A moment later, the mer arched backwards into the water again and Changbin trotted up to where Chan was waiting.

‘Thanks, hyung,’ he said, accepting the offered garment and promptly pulling off his tee.

Chan rolled his eyes but made no comment; there was hardly anyone around to see and besides, they were right next to the beach. He was pleased to note that the shirt wasn’t too bad a fit; it was definitely a bit long but it sat well on Changbin’s rounded shoulders.

As soon as Changbin was dressed, Chan bid goodbye to Felix. ‘I’ll be back in a bit!’

‘Bye, Felix, it was nice meeting you!’ Changbin shouted, waving at the pool.

They got a splash from the mer’s fin in response.

‘C’mon then,’ Chan said, leading the way back through the bach to the front door.

He locked it behind them and a minute later they were in the car, zooming down from the clifftop to the café. They actually made pretty good time, the Audi screeching to a halt right outside it.

‘Good luck in there, Binnie, and thanks for, y’know, not flipping out on me,’ Chan said wryly.

Pausing with his hand on the door handle, Changbin smiled, cheeks puffing up in a ridiculously cute manner for a grown man.

‘What can I say? I’m used to your weird shit, hyung,’ he replied, squeaking out a high-pitched laugh as Chan’s hand shot out to jab him in the ribs. ‘Alright, I’m going, I’m going!’

He all but tumbled out of the car and, with a parting wave, darted into the café. The door had barely swung shut behind him when Minho swooped in out of nowhere and grabbed him. Chan chuckled to himself, then checked over his shoulder to make sure the road was clear and drove away.

Feeling a bit drained upon his arrival back at the bach, he traded in his half-finished beer for a chilled can of peach green tea before going out to the pool.

‘How was that, then?’ he asked the mer, who was presently drifting along on their back.

‘I don’t have an urge to hunt your friend down and kill him for knowing about me,’ was the bluntly honest reply.

‘Well... That’s good, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. I understand why your friendship with him is strong.’

Chan paused, drink halfway to his mouth. ‘Oh? Why’s that?’

Felix tilted their head in the water to glance over at him briefly. ‘Loyalty and compassion. Two qualities humans are not so well known for by my kind. Changbin, however, has nearly as much of them as you do.’

Before Chan could even begin to digest that apparent compliment, the mer added, ‘And so I have met two decent humans, as you once said, in my time here. Seungmin will not believe me.’

Making a mental note to tell Changbin what Felix thought of him, Chan latched onto the unfamiliar name and asked, ‘Seungmin? Is that you friend, the one who’s waiting for you?’

Felix hissed and righted themself. ‘I did not mean to say that. Their name is their own to reveal.’ Their focus narrowed in on the can he held. ‘What is that?’

‘A sweet drink,’ he answered, accepting the abrupt topic change easily. ‘It relaxes me. Do you want to try some?’

Fully expecting them to look horrified at the very thought, Chan was surprised when the mer tilted their head and said, ‘Yes.’

They swam over and imperiously extended an arm up to him.

Raising an unimpressed brow, he crouched down and rather than give them the can, he held it out till it was an inch in front of their mouth. Felix looked at him, startled, then narrowed their eyes, clearly accepting the challenge. Closing that final gap, they parted their lips, the rim of the can resting on their lower lip, and didn’t blink as he carefully tilted the can.

Felix jerked slightly in response to the unfamiliar liquid hitting their tongue and Chan absently wondered how their taste buds compared to a human’s. He lowered his hand a moment later as they closed their lips and drew their head back.

‘...Interesting,’ was their eventual response and Chan laughed. ‘Tastier than the food you gave me.’

He struggled to remember what they were talking about, then laughed again. ‘Pizza. I gave you some of my pizza.’

Felix’s nose wrinkled and their upper lip curled at the memory. ‘Bad food. But that...’ They watched his drink with sharp eyes, a predator eyeing up its prey.

Simultaneously amused and pleased that he’d found something they liked (and which hopefully wasn’t _too_ bad for them), Chan wordlessly offered them the can, this time expecting them to take it.

Of course, by this point he really should have known better. The mer seemed to take delight in not conforming to his expectations at every possible turn.

They dipped their head to the can and wrapped wet fingers around his wrist, gently forcing him to tip the drink into their mouth again. Their throat moved as they swallowed, the can not tilted far enough to be pouring much, and Chan’s skin felt oddly tight as they held his gaze.

‘Mmm,’ they hummed, leaning away and licking their lips. ‘You should have shown me that sooner. Now I will not have many chances to drink it.’

They did not release his wrist and his pulse – jumped.

‘That’s not a bad thing,’ he replied on autopilot, silently thanking the gods that the mer didn’t seem to have noticed. ‘I wouldn’t want to get you addicted to it.’

‘Addicted?’ Felix cocked their head. ‘What is that?’

‘Um.’ Were they going to let go of him? No? Okay then. ‘It means you can’t stop having something because you – you can’t get enough it.’

Dear gods above, why did his voice have to break right _there?_ They were leaning against the edge of the pool now, one hand propping them up on the tiles, the other _still holding his._

‘Hmm, I suppose that would not be good,’ Felix agreed, their tone light but their eyes heavy-lidded and gods above, what was _happening_ right now?

‘Yeah.’ Holy fuck, had he ever sounded so breathy in his _life?_ ‘So, uh, no more peach green tea for you.’

Chan tugged his hand back a little to put the drink down safely away from the water. Felix’s hold on him did not loosen and they stretched their arm out, following his movement.

When they gave no indication that they were going to do anything except keep staring at him, he cleared his throat and asked, ‘Can I help you?’

The question was rhetorical, meant to prod them into awareness of exactly what they were doing, but Felix just grinned, sharp teeth glinting.

‘Do you know what I want to taste?’ they asked.

Chan was pretty sure he was hallucinating by now. ‘No?’

‘Your skin.’

Fortunately, they continued, else he might have thought himself about to be literally eaten.

‘It looks warm and soft,’ they murmured. ‘I am sure it would bend to me much easier than you ever have, Chan.’

Their gaze, which had dropped to the exposed curve of his neck, darted back up to meet his and there was a more familiar look in those gently swirling blue eyes now. It was that edge of dry amusement which he very much associated with Felix, but it did not lead him to believe that they were simply having him on.

No, it just steadied the wobbly ground beneath him and sent a rush of confidence through his veins.

This was Felix, after all. He wasn’t scared of them; he trusted them.

So he stopped leaning back and sat, knees bracketing the mer’s hips, the cool water up to his calves. Tilting his head slightly to one side, he saw their attention drop to the bared skin. He meant to say something light and pithy, but what slipped out instead was rather more... raw.

‘Don’t hurt me.’

Felix’s smile never faltered but their gaze held his as they said, ‘I will not bite unless you ask me to.’

At that, Chan felt himself relax and then the mer lowered their head and closed the gap between them, their damp hair brushing his jaw and their breath feathering over his shoulder. His breath stuttered as something wet and warm flickered across his skin and Felix made a low rumbling noise in their chest. He managed to keep himself still as the mer licked him again but when they dragged their tongue up the side of his neck, almost to the lobe of his ear, Chan could not contain a shiver.

‘It is as soft as it looks,’ Felix purred, sounding quite pleased. ‘So very delicate.’

Chan had never had any part of him referred to as _delicate_ before but he found he did not mind. Not when delight was bright in Felix’s voice.

They lapped at the base of his neck, running the tip of their tongue over his collarbones, and he didn’t think before reaching up to grip their nape. The mer paused in their ministrations but his hold was no tighter than theirs was on his wrist. Chan stroked his thumb over the smooth skin and that quiet purring sound started up again as Felix worked their way up the column of his throat, forcing him to tip his head back.

When at last they drew away, his entire neck, shoulder, and collar were damp with saliva. The mer looked very satisfied and Chan had never been so pleasantly breathless in his life.

‘You taste even better than the drink,’ Felix said smugly. ‘_Much_ better.’

Chan choked on a laugh and spluttered, ‘Thank you?’

‘Mmm, I wish to bite now,’ the continued and suddenly he was choking for a different reason. ‘Not to eat, only to taste,’ Felix added sternly, no doubt seeing the alarm on Chan’s face.

‘Your teeth are... very sharp,’ he said after a hesitant moment.

‘Do you think I know not my own strength?’ Felix tossed their head and Chan’s hand slipped away from their nape. ‘I will be careful. I do not _want_ to hurt you, Chan.’

‘Oh.’ He was unable to come up with another reason why biting might be a bad idea, possibly because his brain had completely shut down a few minutes ago. ‘Well... alright then. But on one condition,’ he hurried to add.

Felix cocked their head, long strands of pale hair falling over their eyes.

‘I get to bite you afterwards.’

Amusement and approval coloured their expression, and they nodded. ‘This is acceptable.’

Without further warning, the mer dipped their head again and laved their tongue over the slope where his neck met his shoulder. Chan settled his free hand lightly on their waist, only to suddenly dig his fingers in when he felt the prick of sharp teeth on his skin. The teeth were promptly replaced with the gentle ministrations of the tongue and lips, alternately lapping and sucking. He relaxed once more, breath calming while his pulse continued to thunder, and Felix moved up the side of his neck again.

The next scrape of teeth was behind Chan’s jaw, just below his earlobe, and another shiver rippled through him, his lashes fluttering down and a faint sigh slipped from his mouth.

He felt Felix’s lips curve into a grin and they murmured against his skin, ‘I did not think that I was the only one enjoying tasting you, Chan.’ Another brush of those lethal fangs under his jaw. ‘Do you like my teeth?’

It took him a few seconds to process that he’d been asked a question and a few more to realise that they were expecting an answer.

The mer pulled back, barely enough for their noses to brush, and met his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes. The blue of them was so intense, Chan could hardly believe it was only a colour.

‘Chan,’ Felix prompted, voice as gravelly as he’d ever heard it.

He blinked, still a bit mesmerised by their eyes. ‘Hmm?’

They smiled. ‘Answer my question.’ A split-second pause, then: ‘Please.’

Warmth blossomed somewhere behind Chan’s sternum and he grinned, bumping their foreheads together. ‘I do like your teeth, Felix.’

‘Good,’ they replied, nipping at his chin and making him jump slightly.

Twisting his wrist from their loose grip, he settled both his hands on the mer’s waist and said, ‘Now it’s my turn. Let’s see how you like human teeth.’

Chan did not expect them to reciprocate the hold, much less to tug him off the edge of the pool as they swam backwards, and he yelped in surprise. He shifted one of his hands to their shoulder to brace himself so he did not sink – but he quickly realised this wasn’t necessary; Felix was having no trouble at all holding him up.

‘My clothes are getting wet again,’ he said unthinkingly, brain still stalled.

The mer snapped their teeth playfully. ‘Take them off then.’

Well. Why not?

A little bit of wriggling later and Chan had his t-shirt off and he twisted to throw the balled up fabric at the receding pool edge. He contemplated removing his shorts but as they were already soaked, he figured there wasn’t much point. Then he noticed the way Felix was intently staring at his chest and a flush rose in his cheeks.

‘So much to taste,’ they murmured, tail brushing against his legs as the powerful fin kept them afloat.

‘I didn’t realise you had such an interest in human skin,’ he commented wryly.

The mer clucked disapprovingly at him. ‘Not _human_ skin, Chan, _your_ skin.’

His laugh was a touch giddy. ‘I don’t know if that makes it better or worse,’ he said, but they both knew that wasn’t true.

‘Come,’ Felix ordered, arching their neck. ‘It is your turn.’

Chan wasted no more time, curiosity and an unexpected hunger driving him. He flicked his tongue over the silvery scales on the mer’s shoulder, wincing at the tang of salt even as he marvelled at how smooth the scales were.

Felix hummed in the back of their throat as Chan licked at the skin of their neck, which was not protected by scales. It was cool and firm and he gave no warning before biting down, testing his teeth against the tensile flesh that was more resilient, less giving than his own. The mer hissed, claws pricking at his sides, but though they were tense under his touch, they did nothing to stop him. So he nibbled and licked and sucked his way up the column of their throat and back down to their collar, swirling his tongue over the scales there.

The mer was vocal in their appreciation of his efforts, sighing, purring, and trilling. Chan’s ego accepted this as a compliment and he did not stop until a hand twined through his hair and tugged him away.

He grinned at the sight of Felix’s face, as flushed as he’d ever seen it (though even that wasn’t much), their pupils huge and rimmed with churning blue. Around them, the water was turbulent and he suddenly realised that they’d both sunk about half a foot.

‘Having fun?’ he asked slyly.

Felix’s grip on his hair tightened and they blinked three times in rapid succession, chest rising and falling rapidly. Chan ran his fingers over the scales on their cheekbones and the mer’s attention abruptly focused, centring on him.

‘Yes,’ they replied huskily. ‘I did not expect you to be so... skilled.’

Struggling not to laugh at how adorably surprised they sounded, Chan said, ‘I’ve had a bit of practise. Is this your first time, um, tasting someone?’

‘No!’ they exclaimed. ‘But...’ Their tongue darted out, running over their lower lip. ‘You taste very good. And I like the feeling of you on my skin.’

‘So why are you still holding my hair?’

‘Oh.’ The mer let go and stroked the backs of their knuckles down the side of his neck. ‘I only have so much control, Chan, and you were testing my limits.’

That sounded... interesting.

‘What kind of limits?’ he asked, resting one of his forearms on their shoulder and playing with the ends of their hair. ‘Were you in danger of actually eating me?’

Felix shook their head, not enough to dislodge his hand, and they tilted back, slowly propelling them through the water. Their firm grip on Chan’s waist kept him close and after a moment, he got used to the shift in balance.

‘I will not eat you,’ they told him, voice still huskier than usual. ‘I would have gone beyond tasting, which would be very rude of me. We are not –’ They broke off, taking a moment to consider their words. ‘We are playing,’ the mer continued at last. ‘You trust me enough for that and I will not take what you do not offer.’

A flurry of emotions swept through Chan, leaving him a bit disoriented, the heat in his blood cooling despite the syrupy warmth of the late afternoon sun.

‘This is – play, then,’ he said, trying to keep his voice even.

Felix met his gaze. ‘Yes. I must return to the ocean soon and you –’

Oh, he was quite cold now.

‘And I’ll remain here,’ he finished for them.

They said nothing and he pushed at their shoulders, silently demanding to be released. Their grip on him loosened and he swam a short distance from them, treading water to stay upright.

‘I know it’s really selfish of me to say this,’ he began, powerful emotions bubbling up in his tone, ‘but I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to – to see the last of you, Felix.’

The mer’s thin brows came down low over their eyes. ‘Chan. You know I cannot stay. I am meant for the sea and I will die if I remain here.’

‘I _know_,’ he said fiercely, angry at them for needing to leave, angry at himself for getting so attached to someone who could never stay. ‘But that doesn’t mean I – shit.’ He swallowed past the lump in his throat. ‘I’m sorry I said that. I don’t want to make you feel guilty or anything. I just –’

Chan snapped his mouth shut. Pursing his lips, he turned in the water and with a few quick, strong strokes was at the edge of the pool. He’d climbed out and was on his feet before Felix called out.

‘Wait!’

Self-loathing coalescing in his stomach, he didn’t turn back around but he didn’t start walking either.

‘Do not run away from me, Chan,’ the mer growled.

His hands formed fists at his sides, tension knotting his shoulders.

‘What were you going to say? Tell me,’ they commanded, tone brooking no argument.

But he wasn’t about to needlessly lay everything bare. He’d already said too much, gods damn it all.

_‘Tell me.’_

‘It doesn’t matter!’ he burst out, spinning back around, hating this whole damn situation. ‘It really – Just leave it, Felix, it doesn’t fucking matter.’ He took a shaky breath, shoving a hand through his hair. ‘I’m an idiot. That’s all there is to it.’

He went to step away but the mer was prepared and they grabbed one of his ankles in a steely grip, eyes burning bright.

_‘Do not speak about yourself in such a way,’_ they snarled, almost as angry as they’d been last night.

Stunned, Chan simply stared down at them.

‘Let go of me,’ he said, barely louder than a whisper.

‘Not until you say what you are hiding from me.’

‘It’s really not that –’

‘You are using it to punish yourself,’ they interrupted sharply. ‘I will not let you go until you tell me.’

He bared his teeth at them but they didn’t even flinch, pinning him in place with the weight of their stare.

_‘Fine,’_ he snapped, swallowing convulsively. ‘I’m going to miss you. I haven’t felt this alive in seven years and you make me –’ he faltered, forcing himself onwards – ‘you make me _happy_, okay? And I’m an _idiot_ –’ he continued over their growl – ‘because I knew you couldn’t stay but I let myself forget that and now I _don’t know what to do.’_

His chest heaved, breath coming in fast, hard pants.

Felix’s expression did not gentle. If anything, they looked even angrier.

‘Do you think I will not miss you too? Do you think I _want_ to leave you, you ridiculous human?’ A rippling snarl poured out of their mouth, bleeding into their words. ‘I _cannot_ stay.’

Chan threw his hands up in frustration. ‘I already said I _know!_ I’m not going to try and force you!’

The mer shook their head sharply, a new intensity to their gaze. _‘I cannot stay!’_

About to yell at them that _he fucking knew that_, Chan paused, furious words dying on his tongue. Felix was saying that like... there was something more?

‘You cannot stay,’ he said slowly, ‘but...?’

Fierce approval in those gleaming blue eyes. ‘I owe you a life debt,’ they said, seemingly apropos of nothing. ‘I told you that there is more than one way to repay that, did I not?’

Chan nodded cautiously, brain struggling to understand what they were trying to spell out for him.

Still growling, they repeated meaningfully, ‘And I _cannot stay_.’

The “but” was practically audible and gods above, what were they –

He froze.

‘But – but I...’

Felix nodded enthusiastically, waiting for him to continue.

Tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips, Chan whispered, ‘But I can go? I can – come with you?’

They bared their teeth at him in a ferocious smile. ‘I owe you a _life debt._’

And what the fucking hell did _that_ – oh. OH.

‘You can... make... me... a mer person?’ he breathed, scarcely able to shape such impossible words with his mouth.

‘Ask,’ they hissed. ‘You must ask.’

Chan’s knees decided this was the perfect moment to give out and he squeaked, anticipating a painful landing, but then his foot was _yanked_ out from under him, hard enough to redirect his momentum. He was pretty sure he was going to have a ring of bruises around his ankle come morning but barely had the thought crossed his mind when Felix was suddenly _up_ and hauling him towards them. They both landed back in the pool with an immense splash and Chan inhaled a mouthful of salt water, promptly coughing and spluttering.

By the time he could breathe again, his eyes watering, he realised he was in Felix’s arms for the second time in five minutes. He blinked, brain doing catch-up on just how he’d gone from standing on the solid ground to floating in the pool again.

‘What – I mean. Why did you do that?’ he asked, voice weirdly level, staring at the mer in confusion.

Their expression was marred by a concerned frown. ‘You were falling. I caught you.’

Chan... wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that one. The proximity, however, was definitely not helping him think.

‘Okay... Um. Thanks. I’m fine now, so uh,’ he said eloquently, but the mer got it.

They lifted him at the waist and sat him on the edge of the pool in a casual display of strength. Then they got right back to the crazy, insane, surely-impossible thing the pair of them had been talking about before... that.

‘You must ask.’ Their claws dug into the red tile on either side of Chan’s thighs. ‘I cannot speak of it otherwise.’

Chan propped his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. He had no idea what to think or feel anymore so he tried to just talk instead.

‘You’re not only telling me about this because of the debt, are you?’

Felix snarled softly. ‘Do not doubt me, Chan. I have said that I will miss you, that I do not wish to leave you. The rest is up to you.’

Lifting his head enough to rest his chin in his cupped hands, he looked at them and asked quietly, ‘Will you make me into a mer person to repay the life debt you owe me?’

Expression finally gentling somewhat, the mer shifted a little closer, their chest brushing his knees. ‘If that is what you wish, yes.’

Chan gritted his teeth against the powerful kick of joy, of excitement in his heart and continued, ‘What does that entail?’

Felix tilted their head, regarding him with glowing eyes. ‘You must be sure. If you are not, the ocean will kill you in the attempt to change you. If your attachment to this life is stronger than your willingness to leave it, you will die. If the change is successful, you will not be able to go above water for many, many moons.’

‘Wow,’ he muttered on a sharp exhalation. ‘That doesn’t sound too promising.’

Jerking their head in a slight shrug, the mer replied, ‘The ocean does not accept anything less than everything. Only then can it give you everything. A life for a life.’

‘And if it works... I can go with you.’

Felix nodded.

‘I just have to leave everything else behind.’

‘Yes.’

Two days later, somewhere around six a.m., Chan scooped Felix up in his arms and walked out through the open pool gate. The mer was quiet as he crossed the clifftop to the top of the stairs and started down, their tail looped around his neck again. By the time they reached the bottom, Chan’s muscles were protesting but not as fiercely as they had last time; going down was a little easier than going up.

Gulls swooped through the air on silent wings, grey smudges in the dim light of early morning, and the sand under his feet was dry and crumbly. The tide would be at its highest in about four hours; plenty of time for two mer people to get safely away from the coast without having to worry about potentially getting stranded.

Without hesitation, Chan walked into the sea, wincing at the sudden shock of cold on his bare skin. Felix shifted in his arms, their yearning palpable, and they unwound their tail, letting the end drag in the shallow water. The mer whined softly and he squeezed them briefly; they were nearly free, nearly.

He sloshed through the water until it reached just above his knees.

‘Is this deep enough?’ he asked quietly, knowing the answer.

‘Yes, yes, it is.’

Felix wasn’t looking at him; they were already twisting in his hold, reaching down for the embrace of the cold ocean. He crouched slightly, loosened his grip, and in a shimmering flash of silver scales and wriggly fins, they were underwater, barely creating a splash. He straightened up, watching them swim around him once, their tail skimming his calves, before they shot out to deeper water.

Chan didn’t have time to wonder if that was it because a moment later, the mer burst up into the air, flipping backwards into the water again. His breath caught and he stared at the space they’d just whipped through; truly, a wild creature set free.

‘Chan.’

He glanced down, saw they’d popped up just a few feet away. His heart clenched so, so tightly – the mer had been back in their home for just a few seconds and already they were _glowing._ Not just their eyes; everything about them was radiating a joyous energy and he felt a reflexive smile spring to his face.

‘I will see you here three mornings from now,’ they said.

He nodded firmly. ‘And if I don’t come down, try again when the sun is set and everyone else is gone.’

‘If you do not come down, I will do that,’ they agreed. ‘But I hope to see you in the morning.’

‘I’ll do my best to be here,’ he promised.

‘Good.’

There was a momentary pause, neither of them quite sure how to leave. Just as Chan inhaled to tell Felix to get going, the mer spoke.

‘Thank you,’ they said sincerely. ‘Thank you for finding me, Chan, and for showing me that there are decent humans in this world. And – for everything else.’

Their tone took on an uncharacteristic edge of shyness, leaving him in no doubt as to what they were referring to.

‘Well, thanks for not eating me,’ he replied, tucking his hands in his pockets. ‘And thank _you_ for everything else, too. No matter what happens... thank you for that. Now, before I start crying or something, off you go! I’m sure S– your friend is getting impatient waiting for you.’

Felix snorted and tossed their head. ‘They are always impatient with me. And before I go –’ They swam a little closer, gesturing for him to meet them in the middle.

Careless of the salt water soaking into the hems of his shorts, Chan walked deeper, till they were right in front of him. Then, in a flash of movement, they pushed themself up and nipped his jaw with sharp teeth. He spluttered in shock, clapping a hand to the spot, as they laughed and slipped away under the water before he could respond.

They surfaced only once more, some considerable distance out, and trilled what was possibly a farewell, possibly a mer laugh. Chan chuckled quietly to himself and waved until they disappeared again.

He stood there for several more minutes, just looking out over the calm surface of the ocean. Then he turned and sloshed back to shore, his jaw tingling.

He had a call to make.

Changbin met Chan the following evening after his shift at the café. They bought some greasy chips and cold drinks and settled at a picnic table in the seaside town’s little park. The temperature was pleasantly warm, no longer horrifically hot, and there were several families dotted around the green space.

‘Alright,’ Changbin said, as soon as he’d inhaled half the food, ‘what’s this about? Something to do with Felix?’

Chan smiled faintly. ‘Yeah. They went back to the sea yesterday morning, first thing.’

‘Oh.’ Changbin’s eyes widened in surprise and he hesitated before continuing, ‘So... that’s it, then? No more mer people?’

‘Mmm not exactly.’ Chan took a large gulp of his orange juice, working up the nerve to say what he had to. ‘You know how I found and rescued them? Well, according to Felix, that constitutes a life debt which they have to repay. I tried to get them to drop it but – it would seem that this is a pretty big deal for mer people.’

Changbin whistled. ‘A life debt? Like, they have to save you sometime in return or something?’

‘Or something. Obviously, I’m not intending to get in any life-threatening situations anytime soon and certainly not out on the ocean.’

‘Where does that leave them and the life debt, then?’

Chan raised a shoulder in a shrug. ‘They told me there’s more than one way to settle the debt but they didn’t explain that until two days ago, not long after you left.’ He exhaled slowly. ‘They made me an offer that I want to accept, Changbin, I really do but – I want you to agree to it first.’

Brows pinching together in a confused frown, Changbin asked, ‘Why are you looking so nervous, hyung? What was the offer?’

‘I can... go with them. Not as a human.’

It took his friend a few seconds to get it and when it clicked, Changbin went very still.

‘Hyung. Chan-hyung.’

Changbin’s tone was flat and Chan fisted his hands in his lap.

‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I am.’

Changbin closed his eyes, jaw flexing against whatever emotions he was feeling. ‘Want to tell me why you think that’s a good idea on _any_ level?’

Chan swallowed thickly. ‘Felix makes me happy. They make me excited to get up in the morning. Binnie... with them, I’m thankful to be alive.’

Changbin’s eyes flew open and oh, there was pain there. So much pain, so much guilt. The little bit of food Chan had had curdled in his stomach.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he said sharply, reaching over the table to squeeze one of Changbin’s shoulders. ‘Don’t blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault.’

‘Hyung –’ Changbin’s voice broke and he took a shaky breath. ‘It’s been so long and –’

‘And you’re the _only_ reason I’m still here,’ Chan interrupted in a low, hard voice, digging his fingers into Changbin’s clothed flesh for emphasis. ‘You’ve gone above and beyond for me, Changbin. My inability to move on is my problem to deal with, not yours.’

Changbin’s spine straightened and he glared. ‘Is that it? You can’t move on so you’re running away? Hyung, you _promised_ me you wouldn’t give up. You _promised._’

Chan knew this. He vividly remembered the vow he’d sworn to his best friend one bleak night in a cold bathtub and he had no intention of breaking it.

‘I’m not giving up, okay? I’m not going back on my word, I swear.’ He paused for breath, aged emotions sitting heavy on his chest, and sat back. ‘And I know it looks like I’m running away but – fuck, maybe I am. There’s only so long you can push yourself in a direction that isn’t working before something gives, and this? This is a chance to go in a different direction.’

Changbin opened his mouth to interrupt, but Chan wasn’t done.

‘Binnie, I mean it when I say I’m not giving up, but this world, this _life_ – it’s not for me. Not anymore. Think of it like – like I’m giving in.’

Yeah, that felt right.

‘I’m not giving up – I’m giving _in._’

Changbin’s breath hitched and his lower lip quivered before he bit down on it hard enough for the flesh to go white.

‘Why –’ he cleared his throat – ‘why is it so important for you to get my agreement? You’ve never been one for asking permission, hyung.’

Blinking away the sheen of moisture threatening to blur his vision, Chan replied, ‘You think I’d just up and leave?’ He snorted softly. ‘It wouldn’t be a very good new start if I hadn’t made my peace with you first, would it? And I – well, I’m not going to abandon you. I will never do that to you.’

He knew the pain of that far too intimately, for all that his own abandonment had been an accidental one.

‘I need to walk,’ Changbin muttered, scrambling off his bench and striding away.

Leaving their food behind (they’d be back), Chan briskly followed Changbin, letting him lead them further into the park. They dodged the families and Changbin stopped a couple of minutes later, when he reached the large stone fountain. Chan silently came up beside him, keeping a foot or so between them. For a time, they simply stood there, staring at the frothing water like it might solve all their problems.

At last, Changbin said roughly, ‘If you do this – what happens?’

‘Felix tells me that I won’t be able to go above water for – a long time. Years.’ He decided not to mention that there was possibility of him not surviving the change.

Changbin’s shoulders jerked as though with a sob, but he made no sound. ‘So... it’ll be final. I’ll have no chance of seeing you for years.’

‘Yes,’ Chan whispered, barely audible over the rush of falling water.

Spinning to face him, Changbin’s throat moved as he swallowed twice, hands in fists at his sides. He looked ready to start crying and Chan hated that he was the reason for that.

‘This is what you want,’ Changbin said, an edge of tremulousness to his voice. ‘If you do this, you won’t be sad anymore.’

He stared at Chan, demanding confirmation.

Chan nodded. ‘Yeah. I don’t – I _really_ don’t want to leave you, Changbinnie, but I _do_ want to start living again. Really living.’

‘And Felix can give you that,’ Changbin finished.

‘They can,’ he confirmed. In more than one way, yes, Felix could give him that.

‘Then you know what I’m going to say.’

‘I _hope_ I know what you’re going to say,’ Chan corrected gently.

Changbin sniffed harshly. ‘Yeah. Yes. Whichever way you want me to say it. I give you my goddamn blessing to go and swim with the fishes. To go and _become_ a fish.’ Another sniff. ‘To leave me.’

Chan had underestimated how excruciating it was to say goodbye to somebody you loved. No, he’d forgotten. Time had dulled the memory but here he was, bringing it back into sharp focus. He blinked and two tears slid down his cheeks.

Changbin noticed and, grumbling something unintelligible, hauled him in for a fierce hug. For his part, Chan tried not to crack his friend’s ribs.

‘When?’ The question was quiet, whispered by his ear.

‘Not yet,’ he replied, voice thoroughly choked. ‘I have to get things ready.’

‘Make sure you let me know before you go, hyung, or I’ll hunt you down.’

Chan gave a watery chuckle, squeezing his friend tightly. ‘Of course, Binnie.’

The following morning, Chan arranged to have the pool drained, cleaned, and refilled over the next couple of days. He spent half the day emptying it of stray abalone shells and rocks from the beach, and dealing with all the pieces of the impromptu shelter he’d built for Felix. The little wooden cabinet was beyond saving so he just put it back in the spare room and let it drip there.

Then he sat down and thought about what kind of message he should leave for Hyunjin and Jisung. The pair weren’t due back in Korea for another four months and although he was sure they’d hear what happened from Changbin, he didn’t want that to be it. He couldn’t call them and fill them in – well, he _could_ but he wasn’t going to. There was too much to explain for a phone call and they’d just try and come back, which he really didn’t want; they’d been planning this trip for two years.

In the end, he recorded a short video on his computer and labelled it “For Hyunjin & Jisung” so, one way or another, it would get to them. He said everything he could, which didn’t turn out to be a whole lot because mentioning Felix was an obvious no-no. Changbin would no doubt have _great_ fun filling in those blanks. And if he cried while recording, well, that was his own business.

One thing he didn’t have to worry about was his will. Eighteen months after the car crash, Chan had created his first one and every half a year since that, he and his lawyer went over it, making sure it was exactly as he wanted it. The last check had been just a few weeks ago. Everything that wasn’t business- or family-related, he’d left either to charity or his three friends. There would probably be far too much for them to deal with, let alone want to keep, but this way anything of his, anything special to them, they’d be able to hang on to.

Unsurprisingly, Chan didn’t get much sleep that night. He finally drifted off somewhere between three and four, only to be jerked awake at quarter to six. There wasn’t so much as a split-second of confusion, his body already rolling out of his bed before he’d even shut the alarm off.

Yawning widely, he pulled on a hoody, grabbed the bach keys, and trotted outside. The blue-grey sky of predawn greeted him as he made his way down the side of the cliff again. Building excitement quickened his steps and he jogged across the sand to the sea, scanning the sea for a flash of silver.

‘Looking for me?’

Chan nearly tripped headlong into the calf-deep water. Felix laughed and the awful tension that’d been coiling in his belly for the past three days dissipated.

‘Felix,’ he said, relieved and delighted.

The mer was a little further out, only their head and shoulders above the surface, and they were sparkling. Wide smile, droplets streaming from their hair, happy energy rolling off them – they _sparkled_.

Holding out his hand as he crossed the last of the distance between them, Chan’s breath hitched when Felix trilled softly and rubbed the side of their face against his palm. They looked like a contented cat and his heart squeezed so damn tight. When he would have drawn his hand back, they raised a wet hand of their own to trap his against their cheek. He didn’t protest, rubbing his thumb over silk-smooth scales.

‘Tell me,’ they rumbled without preface. ‘What is your wish, Chan?’

‘I wish for you to change me into a mer person,’ he answered, breathless at his own daring.

A purred sound emanated from their chest and blue eyes burned bright.

Nipping at the soft flesh of his thumb, they released him and said, ‘I am glad.’

They lifted their other hand from the water, showing him something slick and dark green, a seaweed of some sort. He accepted the offering, a quizzical expression crossing his face.

‘Eat this,’ the mer instructed him. ‘It will begin the change. Your belly will ache but do not be concerned; it is expected that growing gills would cause some discomfort, yes?’

Chan’s eyes went wide. ‘This – this will give me gills?’

‘Yes,’ they replied. ‘If you eat it now, you will be ready for the next step in three sun-ups.’

Regarding the plant warily, he clarified, ‘I can eat it just like this?’

‘Yes,’ the mer repeated.

The end of their tail appeared above the surface and the semi-translucent fin flicked water at him, making him yelp and recoil. Clearly, they were a bit impatient.

‘Alright, alright, here goes,’ he said hastily, promptly shoving the handful of slimy greenery in his mouth.

It wasn’t the _worst_ thing he’d ever eaten, but it was up there. The plant was extremely salty (as one might expect) and the texture was tough, requiring serious chewing before it could be safely swallowed. Felix watched him like a hawk the whole time, making sure he ate it all.

‘_Gah_,’ he spat as soon as he was done, face twisting in distaste. ‘That wasn’t very nice.’

Felix tossed their head and snorted. ‘You have a human’s taste. This will change.’

And that was when it really hit home.

Chan had just eaten a funky sea plant he knew nothing about and according to the mer in front of him, it was going to make him grow gills. There was no going back from this.

What the _fuck_.

‘Calm yourself,’ Felix sharply interrupted his derailing mental train, rising further out of the water to twine their fingers in his hair. ‘I am here, Chan. You are safe.’

He took a shaky breath, exhaling slowly, and braceleted their wrist with his hand.

‘I know,’ he murmured, ‘I know. Just – just getting my head around it, you know?’

Their lips quirked up. ‘I do not know but I will take your word for it.’

Of course they wouldn’t know – they’d been _born_, not made.

‘Alright, what’s the next step?’ he asked. ‘And, hang on, how many _are_ there?’

Probably would’ve been smarter to ask that before he ate the magic mer plant but oh well. Better late than never, hopefully.

Slipping back down into the sea, their tail coiling loosely around his legs, Felix said solemnly, ‘There is only one step after this. When next you come to me, you will not be returning to land.’

Chan shivered. ‘Okay. What happens then?’

‘I will take you around the cliffs to a hidden place, where the humans will not look before we are gone. There you will swallow the ocean and it will swallow you. If everything goes well, you will be like me afterwards.’

Swallow the ocean, huh... That sounded an awful lot like drowning.

Pushing the ominous thought from his mind, another thought occurred to him and he asked, ‘How often does this happen? Humans becoming mer people, I mean.’

‘Not often. It is a rare thing for one of my kind to invite a human to the ocean, rarer for the human to survive.’ They brushed the backs of their fingers down his forearm, adding, ‘I do not think the sea will reject you, Chan. You are much less attached to this life than the rest of your kind. But yet, you wish to live.’

Inclining his head in acknowledgement, Chan tried not to let the nerves bubbling away in his belly consume him. Or maybe that was the plant getting to work.

‘I must go now,’ the mer murmured. ‘Seungmin is expecting me to hunt with them.’

Slightly surprised that they were saying their friend’s name in front of him, Chan said, ‘I’ll see you in another three days, then.’

Felix smiled up at him. ‘Yes. This shall be our last goodbye.’

‘Yeah... I guess it is,’ he agreed. Then: ‘Wait a second –’

Before they could duck away under the water, Chan bent down and got his own back for last time, sinking his teeth firmly into their chin. The mer squeaked in shock and he straightened, grinning smugly.

‘Fair’s fair,’ Chan reasoned.

They narrowed their eyes at him, then splashed him with their tail. He laughed, stumbling back, and with a triumphant snap of their teeth, Felix arrowed away. This time, Chan did not wait before turning and heading back to shore.

The clock was already ticking down his last days as a human.

Changbin had work all today and tomorrow, but he was free from mid-afternoon on Chan’s last day, so he sent his friend a message.

_6:41 AM | Kangaroo-hyung & Babybinnie (2)_

_Kangaroo-hyung: How does Friday after you’re done with work sound? I’ll bring the pizza_

Nearly an hour later, Changbin replied.

_Babybinnie: sounds great hyung :) swing by after 4_

_Kangaroo-hyung: Will do_

And then, because he could –

_Kangaroo-hyung: <3_

After barely ten seconds –

_Babybinnie: <3 <3 <3_

Chan’s heart clenched fiercely and he put the phone down.

He was grateful for the distraction of the maintenance crew arriving a few minutes later to start draining the pool. After making sure they were all set up and didn’t need any help from him, he retreated to his studio. As he couldn’t be with any of the people he loved right now, he decided spending his time with music was a good alternative, especially as this was his last opportunity to take advantage of all his expensive recording equipment.

Of course, in the end he wound up sitting on the little couch, a pen in hand and a book of empty staves on his knee. Music flowed fast and sloppy from his pen to the paper, eager as it had not been a few weeks ago. He’d never transcribe this tune onto his computer, would never hear it through his surround-sound speakers, would never trade versions of it back and forth with other producers. He wasn’t even sure it would sound good but it was all he had to give so he spent the day in various spots in the bach and around it.

Writing. Creating. Recording the sum total of his life – no, of his _first_ life in the only way he knew how.

Perhaps it was just the primal fear of the unknown and of death that was driving him because, yeah, he was scared. He was about to give up every part of his human life in exchange for a chance to restart, to rekindle the fiery joy that came with _living_. But it was also exciting – freedom of a kind he hadn’t known in years beckoned on the other side of a looming blind leap of faith.

So as the hours slipped past and he reached for a fresh pen, Chan couldn’t tell if he was breathless and shaking with adrenaline because he was terrified or exhilarated. Probably a bit of both, he decided.

It seemed both an age and a mere heartbeat before the sun began to set, the sky awash in a wave of gold and pink. The pool crew had packed up and left a while ago; they’d be returning in the morning to start the refill.

He stared down at the clean, empty pool and felt a quiet sense of awe. Such an unassuming structure, nothing particularly special about it. Yet it was half the reason he stood here, stomach aching with more than just nerves. If he hadn’t had a pool – or even if it had been chlorinated – what would he have done? The mer who swam the coastline, waiting for him, was much too long to fit in the bathtub. And that _he_ had been the one to find them? What were the chances?

A small part of Chan privately entertained the thought that his parents were looking out for him.

As the sun descended into the horizon’s embrace, he sat on the edge of the deck and stared down at his legs. Soft skin, a light dusting of hair, strong muscle and bone. They’d served him well over his two and a half decades of life and it seemed quite inconceivable that he’d be without them in a couple of days.

Unable to stand the idea of sleep, he spent much of the night walking and jogging under the three-quarter moon along the beach. He dug his toes into the sand, relished the burn in his thighs as he scrambled over jumbled rocks draped in thick shadow. The eastern sky was just beginning to fade from pitch black to deep blue when the adrenaline thrumming through him receded enough for him to feel tired. Only then did he trot back up all the stairs to the bach and collapse on his bed, conking out almost immediately.

Chan woke later than expected but didn’t mind. There was no rush, after all.

He wandered into the kitchen just in time to hear a car pulling up outside the house. Well, it was more of a small truck really; the same crew as yesterday had returned to fill the pool. They set up quickly and then he left them to it.

Today, he left behind his notebook and pens, instead putting on a pair of comfy shoes and walking down into the village. He wound his way from one end to the other, stopping in at all his favourite shops, visiting the places that’d been there since his childhood. When the temperature racked up uncomfortably high, he cooled his heels in the milkshake bar he’d last been in with Changbin and made sure he left a hefty tip in the little jar by the register.

He swung by the park, running his hands over rough tree bark and through parched grass. After tomorrow, he didn’t imagine he’d be getting another chance to do so, at least not for a long time. Of course, there was plenty of flora under the sea, which Felix would no doubt delight in telling him all about.

By the time he got back to the beach house, he was rather sweaty and very tired. It was early evening and the pool crew had departed, leaving the pool key Chan had loaned them tucked under the mat on the doorstep as requested.

Swiping a can of his beloved peach green tea from the fridge on his way, he went to change into a pair of swimming trunks, but an early conversation with the mer sprang to mind. Specifically, one about the ridiculousness of humans and their obsession with clothes. So he thought _fuck it_ and stripped by the side of the pool, jumping in completely naked.

The salt stung his eyes when he opened them but he disregarded the slight burn, propelling himself down to the concrete bottom. He rolled over, sculling to stay down, and looked up, watching the play of evening light from below two metres of water. Then he experimented with all the different styles of swimming that he knew and seeing which ones he could do without the assistance of his legs. As it turned out, there weren’t many.

When night settled over the clifftop, he floated on his back and remembered Felix’s song. He knew he couldn’t come _close_ to mimicking it accurately but he lifted his voice in song anyway. It’d been a little while since the last time he sang but his vocal chords quickly warmed up. Singing was something he’d been doing since middle school – his music teacher had been thrilled at his ability and had promptly pressganged him into the school choir.

Thus his second-to-last day as a human came to an end, surrounded by salt water and his ears filled with music of his own making.

The final day was the hardest to endure. Chan couldn’t sit still for more than a minute and his mind raced from thought to thought with the speed of a bullet train. He briefly considered going to the gym but was concerned that his state of complete distraction would end with him making a stupid mistake and injuring himself. Obviously, being sent to hospital right now would be about the worst possible situation he could land himself in, not least because his abdomen was persistently aching.

Whatever that plant was doing in order to create gills in his body, he really hoped it was succeeding and he wasn’t experiencing gradual organ failure.

In the end, he hopped in the car and went for a drive. He fired up the Bluetooth on his phone and stuck his favourite playlist on shuffle. Then he headed off in pursuit of the longest, windiest back roads that he could find, accompanied by the gently comforting tune of RM’s _Tokyo_.

This far out from the cities, it wasn’t hard to lose a few hours going up steep, forested hills and diving into deep valleys covered in sprawling pastures. That was why these roads tended to clog up at the beginning and close of summer, as those who had the money to have somewhere else to flee to escaped the hellholes the cities became.

Chan found a rest stop at the peak of a particularly tall hill. The stop wasn’t much, just a carpark already partly full with the vehicles of other travellers and a couple of picnic tables, but the view was spectacular. He parked and walked to the grassy edge of the slope, keeping his distance from the families and couples and little groups of friends around him. The sun beat down fiercely on his head and face and shoulders, the thin second skin of his t-shirt no match for it, but he didn’t mind. Before him, the green hill rolled down into a town which eventually rolled out into the bright blue sea.

It was not the brightest blue he’d ever seen, though. Not like a certain pair of dangerously enticing, swirling eyes that he couldn’t get out of his head.

A sudden stab of discomfort behind his ribs made him wince, instinctively lifting a hand to cradle his side. It subsided after a moment but the point was made – this place was no longer for him.

As he realised this, a newfound sense of resolve quieted the seething nerves in his gut and when he returned to the car, it was with more calm than he’d felt in days.

He took a roundabout route back to the little beachside town he’d thought of as his own for much of his life and arrived outside Changbin’s apartment building a few minutes after four. As he’d promised, he’d picked up pizza on the way – two of them, though he wasn’t sure how much of his he’d be able to eat, not with the way his innards felt like they were cramping all the time.

Flicking Changbin a message to announce his arrival, Chan grabbed the boxes and made his way up.

He didn’t wait to be let in, simply unlocked the door and called, ‘I’m here!’

There was a thud from the direction of the short hallway leading to the bathroom and bedroom. A garbled response drifted up the corridor and Chan raised his brows, bemused. Deciding not to question it, he kicked off his shoes and padded into the main room, setting the pizza boxes down on the coffee table.

‘Hey, sorry about that,’ Changbin said cheerily.

Chan looked up to see him in the doorway, wet hair hanging low over his forehead, clearly fresh from the shower. And... were his eyes a bit –?

Waving his hand dismissively, Changbin grumbled, ‘I got shampoo in my eyes, okay, shut up.’

Heart squeezing in his chest, Chan wasn’t entirely sure he believed that but he nodded anyway.

‘You want a drink?’ Changbin asked, going to the kitchenette and pulling open the fridge. ‘I got you some of that nasty shit you like.’

Chan huffed in amusement when he saw the familiar can his friend held up, the peach patterning on it visible even from a distance. He lifted a hand; Changbin tossed the drink over the kitchen bench and it landed with a satisfying smack in Chan’s sure grip.

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘How’s work been this week?’

Retrieving a different drink for himself, Changbin shrugged. ‘It was alright. Minho-hyung had to deal with a pack of American tourists yesterday, which was pretty funny.’

‘Can he even speak English?’

‘Like, three words. Thank the gods Jaemin was around or we’d’ve been in big trouble.’

‘Well, that’s something.’ Chan sat on the couch, waiting for Changbin to join him, the younger man curling up at the far end facing him. Then he asked, ‘And the cat supplies shopping date? How’d that go?’

At last, a smile flickered briefly over Changbin’s mouth, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘We spent half an hour arguing over collars. And he made me buy him an iced coffee afterwards.’

‘Sounds like he’s trying to get you to date him without actually asking,’ Chan chuckled.

Changbin suddenly looked smug. ‘I asked him about it. I waited till he’d taken a big mouthful of his stupid, overpriced iced coffee, then asked if we were on a date.’

Jaw dropping in shock, Chan blinked rapidly. ‘Really? What did he say?’

Grinning, Changbin replied, ‘After he stopped choking, he gave me this suspicious look asked if I thought it was. So I reminded him that he’d literally just forced me to have an opinion on cat toys and buy him a drink.’

‘And? His answer?’ Chan prompted, leaning forward in his curiosity.

‘Yeah, it was a date. I told him to ask me properly and we’ve got another one arranged for next weekend, but –’ a sudden heaviness to Changbin’s expression – ‘we’ll see, I guess.’

Chan swallowed and when his stomach rolled, he couldn’t tell if it was because of the changes happening inside him or nerves.

They quickly moved on from such dangerous topics, neither of them wanting to dwell on the inevitable. Instead, they ate more pizza than was probably advisable, played the same videogames they’d loved as teens, and flitted over more light-hearted subjects. There would be time for solemnity – right now, they focused on making one last happy memory together.

Of course, they weren’t as young as they’d once been and Changbin had had a long week. It was barely half one when he started drifting off. The third time in as many minutes that he jerked his head back up after almost falling asleep on the spot, he glanced over and saw Chan already watching him.

Chan smiled oh so faintly and a muscle jumped in Changbin’s jaw.

‘It’s late. You should go to bed,’ Chan said softly.

Changbin pursed his lips so tightly they went white. ‘Yeah,’ he finally said, voice rough. ‘I suppose I should.’

He turned off the console and the TV and they both stood. For a long minute, they just stared, drinking each other in.

Then Changbin whispered, ‘I’m going to miss you so much, hyung.’ His eyes glittered and shone.

Chan felt his throat close up, tears of his own threatening. He’d always been the more emotionally contained of the two, but tonight he did not try to wipe the moisture away. His pain was deep and true, and it did not deserve to be hidden.

‘I’ll miss you too, Binnie.’

A choked little whimper burst from Changbin’s throat and he crumpled. Chan reached out and hauled his best friend into a firm hug, which Changbin fiercely returned, crying unabashedly into the his shoulder. Chan pressed his cheek against Changbin’s temple and when he closed his eyes, he felt the first tears slip free.

‘We’ll be alright,’ Chan murmured. ‘We’ll both be alright.’

Changbin did not reply, only clung more tightly, muffled sobs making his whole body shake.

But this too had to end. Chan needed to get back to the bach. As Changbin’s cries slowly quietened, he forced himself to pull back, pressing a slightly damp kiss to Changbin's forehead.

‘I don’t know when, if ever, I’ll be able to come back,’ he whispered. ‘But I’ll try. Ten summers from now, Changbin. If I’m able to, I’ll swim by the beach in the early mornings and look for you.’

His plump cheeks glistening in the dim light, Changbin nodded. ‘Go on then,’ he mumbled, before clearing his throat. ‘You don’t want to keep them waiting. Go and find your happiness.’

He leaned in a placed a very soft kiss on Chan's cheek.

‘I’ll see myself out,’ Chan breathed, fighting not to burst into tears. ‘Love you, Binnie.’

Then he let go of the younger man’s hands and walked out to the entranceway. He pulled on his shoes and opened the door.

‘Bye, Chan-hyung. I love you, too.’

Chan’s lip was bleeding with how hard he’d bitten it by the time he reached the Audi and he had to simply sit and cry for a little while before he could see well enough to drive back to the clifftop. But although the grief was terribly sharp and he was quite sure he’d left a piece of his heart behind, the sense of calm resolve he’d found that afternoon lay solid and constant beneath it all.

He parked the car by his parents’ beach house, leaving it unlocked. Then he went inside and made sure everything was as it should be. The notebook with his final, hastily-written piece of music in it lay neatly on the kitchen counter; a sticky note attached to the front read – _for Changbin._

On a whim, he grabbed a pen and added a short line to the note – _don’t be sad for me, I’m not scared._

Then he changed into a fresh t-shirt and walked out onto the deck, shutting the door behind himself. He passed the pool and went out the gate, walking barefoot down the stairs to the beach. His abdomen cramped and he found a reasonably flat rock by the water’s edge to sit on.

There he waited for Felix.

The moon had yet to set when Chan saw the first flicker of movement in the smooth silver surface of the ocean.

He’d been here a couple of hours, the quiet darkness lulling him into a semi-meditative state, but now he focused his attention. There was another ripple in the water, this one much closer, and he sat up straight, heart thudding loudly in his ears. Then a shadowy figure broke through the surface only a few metres out.

Moonlight glinted on pale hair and Chan called softly, ‘Felix?’

‘Chan.’ The word was a quiet rumble of sound that could’ve easily blended with the crashing of waves, the lapping of the sea over jagged rocks. ‘You are early.’

‘I’ve done everything I need to. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.’

A hand rose from the water, extending towards him. ‘Come, then.’

Breathing very carefully, Chan got to his feet and walked into the cold ocean. He didn’t look behind him; he’d only see the shadow of the cliff face, after all. Water sloshed around his thighs, the fabric of his shorts sticking to his legs, and he reached the mer. Bright blue eyes cut through the gloom and he took Felix’s hand.

‘There is a cave,’ they told him. ‘The entrance is underwater but it will not be too far for you. Lie on my front; I will take us there.’

Wordlessly accepting their decree, Chan waited for them to roll onto their back and awkwardly draped his torso over theirs. They both sunk, of course, but the mer easily manhandled him into the position they wanted. He felt their tail shifting under his legs and then, in a powerful ripple of movement, they were moving.

Felix kept their hands wrapped tight around his ribcage and their head tipped backwards under the water, seemingly having no difficulty with the arrangement. Chan tried not to move too much, not wanting to tangle his legs with their tail or hit their gills with his hands. So he decided to hold onto the steely muscle of their upper arms and just hang on for the ride, doing his best not to inhale a mouthful of water as they cut through the surface of the sea.

They quickly left the shore behind, then curled around to the right. Felix expertly avoided all broken spires of rock and brought them safely to a halt a couple of kilometres from the beach at the base of the cliff.

Lifting their head out of the water, the mer smiled up at him and asked, ‘How was that?’

Despite everything, Chan had to admit the ride had been rather exciting and he told them exactly that.

They bared their teeth in a feral grin. ‘Good. Now we go to the cave. You must hold your breath.’

‘Sure,’ he replied. ‘I don’t really want to drown just yet.’

‘We both know I would not let you drown,’ the mer reminded him. ‘Now – no breathing.’

Chan dutifully took the largest breath he could, trying to ignore the dull stabbing pain inside his ribs, and Felix dipped back underwater, dragging him down with them. The chill of the sea closing over his head was a shock to his body but not an unfamiliar one and he squinted, trying to see where they were going. Unfortunately, aside from Felix’s pale body beneath his, he couldn’t make anything out.

He might not have able to see much but he could feel which way the mer was pulling him and knew they had gone quite a way down, the change in pressure making his ears pop. As he exhaled a few bubbles of carbon dioxide, they changed direction, going forward. It didn’t take long for his lungs to start complaining but he was careful not to panic. Then, just as he breathed out the very last of his air, the mer suddenly went up and up and –

‘Hah!’

Chan inhaled deeply, taking great, gulping breaths to settle his alarmed body. He was still effectively blind but at least he could breathe. The air was heavy and stale, as might be expected for an isolated cave.

‘Are you well? You did not try to breathe in, did you?’ Felix asked anxiously, their hands sure on his sides as they moved slowly through the water.

‘No, no, I’m fine,’ Chan panted.

‘Good. Next time, you will use your gills.’

Well, that was a pleasantly incomprehensible thought.

A moment later, Felix stopped moving and Chan felt them turn in the water, his hip bumping against a solid surface. He reached out and felt cold rock. The slope was not very steep so let go of the mer and scrambled onto it. A breeze tickled the back of his neck and he figured there must be at least one natural vent somewhere. He looked around – or rather, tried and failed to; Felix’s glowing eyes and faintly luminous body were all he could see.

Clawed hands brushed over his ribs and the mer murmured, ‘You will not need your clothes anymore and I must feel if your gills are ready to come through. Take them off... please.’

Chan shivered, both at the cold and as the reality of what he was doing sunk its fangs deep into him. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled his sodden t-shirt over his head and placed it on the rock next to him. He awkwardly shimmied out of his shorts and underwear, wincing as the cold air washed over his wet, bare skin.

‘Okay,’ he whispered. ‘You can touch.’

Felix’s fingers grazed his sides and he was surprised at the hiss that tore from the back of his throat, the skin there suddenly exquisitely sensitive. The mer promptly withdrew their hands.

‘Oh yes, they are ready.’ Bright blue eyes met his in the darkness and Felix took his hands. ‘It is time, Chan.’

He nodded. ‘How does it start?’

‘Come into the water.’

They tugged on his hands and he slid back in with a splash.

‘This will hurt,’ they said, very close to him now, ‘but the pain will not last. Trust me.’

Chan clung to those words for dear life as Felix released his hands and drew lines of searing fire across his ribs. He opened his mouth to scream and was yanked underwater, the sound deadened in the embrace of the sea. Down, down, down, they went and he writhed, trying to go _up_, to get back to the air for he had taken in none in his lungs. The grip on his ankle was merciless, however, and he could not escape.

Something touched his ribs again and if he’d been above water, he’d likely have pulled a muscle with how hard he twisted, the burn ferocious. Then something else brushed his lip and he panicked, trying to shut his mouth, but his jaw was held open. Lips pressed against his, a foreign tongue entering his mouth to slide over his, but it withdrew before he could think how to respond. Then his mouth was forced shut until he instinctively swallowed, his empty lungs screaming almost as loudly as his ribs.

He could not breathe, he could _not breathe –_

His jaw was released and he opened his mouth, seeking air, but there was none, there was _none –_

He had to breathe – he could not breathe – he _had to breathe –_

_Had to breathe –_

_Had to –_

_Had to –_

_To –_

_BREATHE –_

His body rebelled, instinct overwhelming reason, and he inhaled desperately only to immediately choke on water, so much water that he coughed, but there was nowhere for the water to go and he _kept choking and spluttering and retching –_

_Pain along his sides, such terrible pain –_

_Pain and choking and pain and choking and –_

_Choking and pain and choking –_

_And pain and choking and –_

_Pain and –_

_Choking –_

_Pain –_

_Choking –_

_RELIEF –_

He swallowed the sea and felt _relief_, such sweet relief. He was not breathing but still he felt relief, the agony in his chest and sides abating as he gulped down the water in his mouth a second time.

Again he brought the ocean into himself.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

He did not know how many times he swallowed the sea before he could do anything else, before he could even _think_ about anything else.

But eventually awareness began to dawn.

It came slowly, as all dawns do.

He realised he was floating, adrift in water that he _knew_ was the ocean. No longer did he register any particularly salty flavour in his mouth but he was quite sure.

The fact that he was surrounded by darkness became apparent to him, though perhaps it was not quite as impenetrable as it had once been.

He became aware of his limbs, arms stretched out to the sides, legs below –

Legs?

The dawning sped up as he realised there was something wrong with that thought. It was not as accurate as it should be. He moved his arms, feeling them bend at the elbow, rotate at the wrists, and knew all was well there. He kicked out with his legs, feeling water move between –

Wrong.

He could not separate his legs. There was nothing _to_ separate. What was going on down there? He _moved_ and felt something respond but – that was not legs. Trying to express his confusion, he made a noise in his throat, but it sounded... odd.

Blue, such bright, clear, perfect blue, appeared in front of him. The two spots of blue were eyes, the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. Whose eyes?

_Chan. Are you well?_

Oh. That’s right. He was Chan, wasn’t he?

_Yes, you are Chan._

He detected amusement in that tone and tried to ask who the blue eyes belonged to, but nothing much happened.

_You are not trying the right way. Speak to me without words._

He was _trying_, dammit, but – _Who are you?_

Well. That worked.

_Who am I?_ Sharp white gleamed in the murkiness. _I am Felix._

Felix. Felix. _Felix._

He tried to gasp as his dawning finally finished and things made _sense_ again but he could not gasp. Instead, he sort of – squeaked.

Silent laughter filled his head and he reared back in hopelessly confused affront. He began to ask another question but silver suddenly filled his vision, the water around him churning and twisting, and he moved without control. Alarm had barely quickened his pulse when there were hands gripping his and Felix’s blue eyes were in front of him again.

_Sorry,_ they said. _I forgot that you have no idea how to move._

Their beautiful tail rippled and coiled behind them and Chan looked down, hoping to see a tail of his own, but he could not. A squeaky click sounded in his throat, the noise an infinitely mournful one, and Felix laughed again.

_Come,_ they said, tugging him along easily behind them. _Let us go into the light. You are darker than me._

Was he? And how did they know that? Could _they_ see? Why couldn’t he?

More laughter. _This must be what it is like to have a pup; so many questions!_

Felix towed him through a world of shadows and then suddenly there was light streaming through the water. Chan looked up and could see the distant surface of the ocean, a wall of rock behind him featuring a large hole in the side of it. It was interesting, he thought, that he could see better than he had when – well, when he and Felix had arrived, but he could not see as clearly as them.

_You are getting used to the changes. Then you will see as I do._

He frowned, turning his head to scowl at the pale mer still tugging him along. _Why can you hear everything? Even when I don’t say it to you._

_You are being very loud. Do not worry, I will teach you how to stop shouting._

At last, they stopped swimming and let go of one of Chan’s hands. He immediately took the chance to look down at himself – and made a _much_ louder squeak.

That was a tail. That was _definitely_ a tail.

It was also, as Felix had said, a lot darker than theirs. While their scales were a reflective silver that helped them blend in beautifully with just about any surrounding, his were near-black. He moved and the scales glinted faintly in the light, revealing their true colour to be a deep coppery bronze. A more washed-out shade of the same hue coloured his three, semi-translucent fins.

He let his gaze travel up to his torso, where his skin looked similar to how it had before, bar the smattering of dark scales here and there. Oh, and there were the gills! He went to lightly trace them with his free hand but was forestalled by the sight of his arm – scales streaked the back of it and apparently fingernails were a human invention because now he had claws. Upon closer examination, he concluded that they were probably just as deadly as Felix’s.

However, the main thing that surprised him was how natural everything felt. He didn’t feel like he was in the wrong body, all his limbs awkward and out of his control (though, to be fair, he _was_ mostly winging it with the tail). It all seemed... as it should.

_That is because you are no longer human, Chan. You are a mer, so of course you feel natural in your skin._

Chan looked up from his self-examination. He met that gaze of beautiful, piercing blue and he did not feel afraid.

_You were right,_ he told them. _It hurt a lot._

A warbling click came from the other mer and they coiled their tail loosely around his, the actions intended to comfort.

_I did not want to hurt you, but it had to be done,_ Felix said quietly, eyes widening in distress.

He tried to mimic the movement they had done with their tail; it didn’t really work, but he thought they got the idea.

_I know,_ he said, _I know. After all, I trust you, don’t I?_

They brightened and nuzzled the side of their head against his, flicking their tongue over his ear-fin.

_As you should_, they practically purred.

Chan twisted sharply in the water and licked them back just because he could. Then he glanced upwards again.

_You said that I can’t go above water. Why is that?_

Felix began swimming further from the cliff, from the beach, from the coast. They drifted along on their back, teasing him with their tail, going slowly as he figured out how to follow them.

_The ocean must claim you entirely and it takes a long time for that to happen. Until such a time comes to pass, your lungs will remain full of water that is constantly being renewed by the sea._

As soon as they said that, Chan realised he hadn’t quite shut his mouth in... well, not since he had woken. It felt uncomfortable to do so for more than a moment.

_So if I go up there now,_ he concluded, _I’ll drown._

Felix inclined their head. _Yes. When the ocean is satisfied that you belong wholly to it, you will cough up the water and your lungs will close like mine do when below the surface._

A flicker of memory passed through his mind and he asked, _Will it take longer than ten summers? I promised Changbin I’d come back here then, if I could._

They tilted their head, then swum a casual loop around him, making him roll over and get his tail a bit tangled. They snickered and he growled at them, the sound rumbling menacingly in his chest, but the other mer simply snapped their teeth at him and kept going, leaving him with no choice but to straighten out his tail and follow.

_I should not think it would take longer. Perhaps eight summers. I have never given a human to the ocean before._

His obligations to his one, fragile tie to dry land complete for the time being, Chan tried to coil his tail and launch himself forward as he’d seen Felix do. It partially worked, but the momentum sent him into a series of forward rolls which had him swearing in frustration. Felix, of course, laughed, but then they offered him a hand, pulling him along until his tail remembered how to swim in a reasonably straight line.

He found himself nipping the underside of their wrist as a sign of gratitude that seemed to make more sense to them than him. They brushed their fins over his tail in return and he felt a powerful glow of warmth build behind his sternum.

_Where are we going?_ he asked, feeling lighter than he had in a very, very long time.

Bright blue eyes met his. _Out to where it is safer. Seungmin wants to meet you._

He felt a slight pang of trepidation at that, but he was eager to meet Felix’s friend too.

Then they shot him a fierce smile and asked, _Want to race?_

Another indignant squeaking noise burst from Chan’s throat but he didn’t dwell on the embarrassment of that. _I can barely swim properly and you’re challenging me to a _race?

The other mer snapped their teeth at him. _Is that a no?_

He growled. _No, it’s not._

Felix’s delighted laughter echoed through his mind and Chan really could not bring himself to care that they were taking terrible, terrible advantage of him. He simply coiled his tail again and launched himself after them.

And so, his second life began.

**Author's Note:**

> firstly, may the gods bless my beta
> 
> secondly, i hope you enjoyed the story :) pls leave a comment if you did, they are wonderful author food!!


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